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THE  DESTROYER 


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THE    DESTROYER 


BY 

BENJAMIN  SWIFT 

author  of 
"Nancy  Noon"  and  "The  Tormentor' 


NEW  YORK 
FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1898, 
By  FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 


Pkesswork  by 
Thb  Univeesitv  Press,  Cambridck,  U.S.A. 


To 
M.  MAURICE  MAETERLINCK 

Sir, 

I  offer  these  rude  Northern  chapters,  not 
because  they  are  fit  to  be  offered,  but  because 
even  a  rude  gift  may  be  allowed  to  express  a 
sincere  admiration. 

Yours,  with  respect, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


NOTE 

Most  of  the  incidents  in  connection  with  the  Siege  of  Paris 
are  taken  from  the  Journal  des  Goncourt. 


"  Piaga  d'amor  non  si  sana  mat ' 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I.— THE  WRONG  CHOICE. 

CHAP.  PAGB 

I.  Makes  Surprising  Discoveries i 

II.  Finds  Tragedy  still  Half  Asleep lo 

III.  Sounds  an  Alarm  Clock  which  Wakens  Tragedy. . .  23 

IV.  Attends  the  Unburying  of  an  Old  Sin 45 

V.  Attends  the  Burying  of  an  Old  Sinner 64 

VI.  Thinks  that   Love   Discovers   Beauty  where  None 

would  See  it 74 

BOOK  II.— THE  UNEASY  LOVER 
I.  Discovers  one  of  the  Supreme  Moments  in  the  His- 
tory of  France,  and  of  Two  Englishmen iii 

II.  L'Homme  Joyeux 141 

III.  Perturbation 165 

IV.  The  Doppelganger 189 

V.  Dreams 205 

VI.  ' '  Ah,  Love !     Somewhat  Let  Be 220 

BOOK  III.— THE  TWIN  SACRIFICE. 

I.  Mrs.  Proudfoot  Returns 241 

II.  The  Plebeian  Wins 253 

III.  The  Elder  Mrs.  Proudfoot  is  Told  the  Tiuth 266 

IV.  Suspense 282 

V.  The  Younger  Mrs.  Proudfoot  is  Told  the  Truth 296 

VI.  Light  o'  the  Sun. 306 


BOOK  I 

THE  WRONG  CHOICE 


THE  DESTROYER 


CHAPTER  I 

MAKES  SURPRISING  DISCOVERIES 

Whereas  Lady  Rimmon  had  begun  to  talk 
early  about  the  sort  of  man  she  would  choose  for 
a  son-in-law,  Sir  Saul  appeared  to  take  no  genuine 
interest  in  that  question.  Whether  he  would  be 
fat  or  lean,  dark  or  fair,  even  whether  he  was 
going  to  be  rich  or  poor,  it  seemed  to  matter 
nothing  to  Sir  Saul. 

"  But  his  temperament !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon, 
"  that  is  the  main  thing." 

"  They're  all  choleric,"  replied  Sir  Saul. 

He  was  too  bored  by  his  wife's  suggestions, 
especially  when  they  referred  to  the  spiritual 
endowment  of  him  whom  Providence  was  to  send 
as  their  son. 

"  We  should  have  had  one  of  our  own,"  he  said, 
and  used  to  go  whistling  to  the  kennels. 


2  THE   DESTROYER 

Indeed,  Sir  Saul  was  almost  always  out  of  doors, 
which  was  taken  as  a  bad  sign.  He  preferred  his 
hounds  and  jesses.  He  said  he  could  keep  his 
hounds  in  leash  well  enough,  whereas  he  never 
could  control  the  yelling  pack  of  his  wife's  words. 

"  *  Yelling !  '  was  the  word  your  father  used," 
said  Lady  Rimmon  to  Violet,  "  as  if  I  yell,  and 
I  have  never  got  over  the  way  he  described  my 
voice.  He  said  my  voice  was  an  '  earsore  ! '  That 
was  the  voice  which,  when  I  married  him,  was  *  a 
bird's  warble.'  It  agitated  me  for  a  week,  and  I 
have  never  forgotten  it." 

But  she  accepted  her  illusions,  and  reserved  all 
her  affection  for  her  daughter.  She  determined 
to  discover  a  safe  marriage.  She  felt  it  to  be 
surprising  that  Sir  Saul  had  turned  so  careless  on 
a  matter  so  grave. 

"  Let  the  girl  decide,"  he  said. 

"  But  it  is  not  her  business,  it  is  ours,  you  strange 
man  ! "  she  repeated  until  she  drove  him  away 
again. 

"  Men  don't  like  emphatic  women,  mother," 
said  Violet.  "  Women  who  shake  their  heads  at 
every  third  word,  you  know." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon,  astonished. 


MAKES   SURPRISING   DISCOVERIES  3 

It  was  the  first  time  Violet  had  ventured  to 
give  criticism  and  advice. 

Lady  Rimmon,  in  spite  of  similar  provocations, 
adored  Violet,  and  had  long  ago  decided  that  no 
son-in-law  could  ever  be  good  enough.  Whoever 
he  was  going  to  be,  she  hated  him  in  advance. 
Violet  would  be  thrown  away  in  any  case,  but, 
at  least,  the  shock  could  be  made  as  mild  as 
possible. 

"  Now,  child,  tell  me  whom  would  it  be  ?  "  she 
asked,  allowing  Violet  for  a  moment  to  consider 
the  business  as  her  own. 

"  Edgar,"  said  Violet. 

That  was  Edgar  Besser,  son  of  their  rich 
neighbor  of  Mulvey  House  ;  "  superb  youth,"  as 
was  said,  but  with  some  awkward  leanings  towards 
the  priesthood. 

"  Edgar !  And  you  know  he  is  perhaps  a  priest 
already  ! " 

"  He'll  not  remain  a  priest.  Leave  me,  mother, 
please,"  said  Violet. 

Lady  Rimmon  thought  that  if  she  had  a  strange 
husband  she  had  now  a  frantic  child.  She  could 
make  headway  with  neither  of  them.  In  vain 
she  had  told  Violet  that  whether  Edgar  Besser — 


4  THE   DESTROYER 

a  good  enough  family  to  be  sure — was  going 
to  be  a  priest  or  not,  he  never  would  be  her 
choice,  and  therefore  never  could  be  her  daugh- 
ter's. 

"  Edgar !  "  persisted  Violet,  even  till  the  very 
night  she  saw  him  drive  past  with  his  luggage  on 
his  way  to  Oxford.  And,  at  any  rate,  a  prospec- 
tive young  priest,  driving  in  his  father's  carriage, 
clasping  a  missal,  should  hardly  have  risen  in  the 
carriage  and  kissed  his  hand.  He  should  have 
been  kissing  his  missal  rather — unless,  perhaps, 
the  lips  of  his  missal  were  already  found  to  be 
too  cold.  It  all  seemed  to  mean  that  one  day  he 
might  come  driving  as  rapidly  back  again.  At 
least  so  pondered  Violet.  Not  once  or  twice  a 
hand  waved  to  her  through  dreams  as  if  to  warn 
her  he  was  coming,  and  she  felt  the  power  of 
that  dream-gesture.  And  she  may  have  been 
right  when  she  wrote  in  her  book  that  "  Many  a 
cathedral  priest  is  doubtless  an  exiled  and  dis- 
guised priest  of  Apollo,  and  swings  a  sad  censer." 
But  Edgar  was  not  yet  a  priest.  He  was  merely 
studying  at  Oxford,  although  his  friends  proph- 
esied that  sooner  or  later  the  Catholic  Church 
would  be  his  goal. 


MAKES  SURPRISING  DISCOVERIES  5 

•*  It  is  all  Edgar,  Edgar,  with  her  yet  !  "  ex- 
claimed Lady  Rimmon  to  Sir  Saul. 

"  What  about  it  ?  "  said  he. 

Violet  was  drooping,  and  it  became  necessary 
to  look  for  guidance  and  advice  elsewhere.  But, 
indeed.  Lady  Rimmon  seldom  turned  to  her 
husband  for  advice,  and  usually  applied  to  her 
brother,  Prince  Euxine,  who  was  their  invariable 
guest  at  regular  intervals.  The  Prince's  visits 
used  to  occur  so  often,  and  took  so  long  to  ex- 
pire, that  Sir  Saul  had  years  ago  discovered  his 
brother-in-law  to  be  insufferable.  There  was  no 
other  word.  During  the  first  months  of  his  mar- 
riage it  was  doubtless  a  desirable  thing  to  enter 
a  club  with  a  prince  as  kinsman.  But  that  vanity 
had  long  ago  worn  off.  The  Prince  began  to 
develop  surprising  migratory  habits,  and  he  in- 
variably hibernated  at  Rimmon  House.  His 
letters  announcing  his  arrival  always  ended  with : 
"  And  now  I  am  coming  to  bow  in  the  House  of 
Rimmon."  There  was  no  bowing  him  out.  Sir 
Saul  had  long  ago  discovered  the  futility  of  an 
"  international  marriage."  "  We  will  do  good  to 
each  other,"  Prince  Euxine  used  to  say.  "  We 
will  break  down  racial  animosities  after  you  wed 
my  sister,  you  know,  Saul." 


6  THE  DESTROYER 

"  These  Russians  !  "  exclaimed  Sir  Saul,  when 
his  house  was  overrun  by  his  wife's  kindred. 

Lady  Rimmon,  subduing  her  voice  for  once 
with  success,  only  looked  very  steadily  across  the 
breakfast-table  by  way  of  feminine  rebuke,  when 
Sir  Saul  muttered  an  oath  over  any  fresh  an- 
nouncement of  the  Prince's  arrival. 

"  I  hope  he's  his  own  cigars  this  time,  ma'am, 
that's  all." 

But  he  always  came  smiling  to  the  gate,  and 
brought  the  Prince  grandly  and  brotherly  in. 
Lady  Rimmon  longed  for  her  brother's  arrival, 
because,  in  spite  of  what  might  have  been  ex- 
pected to  the  contrary,  Sir  Saul  became  more 
amiable  during  his  visits.  If  he  treated  him  with 
inward  contempt,  he  also  showed  full  outward 
respect,  and  it  was  even  said  that  Euxine  was  the 
only  one  who  could  "  manage  "  Sir  Saul,  and  that 
in  some  way  Sir  Saul  feared  him. 

A  certain  gloom  was  settling  on  Rimmon 
House,  but  it  was  sometimes  lifted  when  the 
Prince  came.  Sir  Saul,  Lady  Rimmon,  and  the 
proud  Violet  found  things  stifling  when  given  up 
to  each  other's  company. 

"  You  see,"  wrote  Violet  in  her  journal,  "  how 


MAKES  SURPRISING  DISCOVERIES  / 

many  small  jagging  miseries  accumulate  like 
needles  when  two  or  three  people  come  together." 

"  Your  father  is  so  strange,  Violet — strange  and 
capricious,"  said  Lady  Rimmon, 

"  You  mean  selfish,"  replied  Violet. 

Lady  Rimmon  fell  to  weeping,  and  said  she  was 
a  persecuted  woman.  "  You  know  what  I  have 
suffered.  We  are  being  talked  about,  and  I  feel 
that  things  are  coming  to  a  height  in  this  house." 

"  Yes,"  said  Violet,  "  and  I've  grown  up  in  an 
atmosphere  of  suspicion  and  dread — stifling  it  is 
— and  I've  never  heard  anything  except  yours 
and  father's  muffled  anger." 

"  Child,  is  it  my  fault  ?  Do  I  not  wish  to  see 
you  well  out  of  it  ?  I  see  now  that  English  and 
Russian  tempers  never  will  agree.  We  are  lions 
and  bears  trying  to  live  in  the  same  cage.  And 
yet  I've  become  absolutely  English  for  him,"  said 
Lady  Rimmon. 

But  then  she  broke  off  to  talk  more  excitedly. 

"  I  wish  one  thing,  Violet,"  she  said.  "  Will 
you  follow  your  father  some  day  through  the 
wood  in  the  afternoon  when  he  goes  out  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Violet,  and  hastily  left  the  room. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  that  that  request  had 


8  THE   DESTROYER 

been  made,  and  the  same  answer  returned  in  the 
same  way. 

Although  Prince  Euxine  knew  a  good  deal  of 
the  inner  privacy  of  his  sister's  household,  he 
would  have  been  surprised  to  be  told  that  quar- 
rels occurred  so  often,  and  with  such  rapidity. 
The  cause  lay  far  deeper  than  in  a  mere  collision 
of  temperaments.  That  would  have  been  bad 
enough,  but  it  was  an  effect  rather  than  a  cause. 
Subtle  inquiries,  not  advanced  in  words,  but  in 
looks  and  gestures  between  Sir  Saul  and  Lady 
Rimmon,  and  between  Violet  and  Sir  Saul  had 
been  growing  sharper  and  sharper  of  late.  Lady 
Rimmon  stood  before  the  impalpable  truth  of  a 
coming  disgrace  with  the  sort  of  feeling  a  child 
has  when  it  doesn't  know  the  meaning  of  a  word, 
but  guesses  that  it  means  something  unclean. 

"  Follow  him  through  the  wood,  do  !  "  she  said 
in  haste  to  Cubitt,  the  woodman,  whom,  in  her 
desperation,  she  had  made  her  confidant.  "  Quick ! 
he  has  gone  this  moment !     Keep  well  behind  !  " 

She  delayed  to  bring  her  suspicions  to  Euxine 
only  till  they  were  all  horribly  ripe.  It  must 
have  been  at  that  time  that  Violet,  whose  intelli- 
gence was  much  swifter  than  her  mother's,  and 


MAKES  SURPRISING  DISCOVERIES  9 

was  long  ago  in  possession  of  the  truth  that  made 
the  House  of  Rimmon  bow  down,  never  to  rise 
any  more — I  say,  it  must  have  been  in  those  days 
of  sickening  mistrust  -and  innuendo  that  Violet 
wrote  in  her  journal :  "  Marriage  fails  if  it  is 
founded  on  the  fiction  of  the  permanence  of  the 
emotions.  If  the  emotions  were  permanent,  they 
would  not  be  emotions.  Emotion  comes  in  tides. 
Everything  is  episodic,  even  vice." 

"  I  feel  ...  I  do,"  exclaimed  Lady  Rimmon, 
sinking  into  her  chair,  and  covering  her  face  with 
her  hands,  and  ruining  her  bodice  by  twisting  her- 
self within  it,  "  that  I  have  been  living  with  a  bad 
man  iov  years  !  " 


CHAPTER    II 

FINDS   TRAGEDY  STILL  HALF    ASLEEP 

Prince  Euxine  never  lost  any  time  in  making 
himself  at  home.  The  first  thing  the  valet  had 
to  do  was  to  remove  his  white  gaiters  and  walking 
shoes,  and  bring  a  pair  of  riding  boots. 

"  Whiten  the  gaiters,  boy,  and  take  this  hat 
and  steam  it.  Don't  let  the  iron  be  too  hot  else 
you'll  burn  the  silk."  "^ 

The  servants  at  Rimmon  House  had  a  peculiar 
contempt  for  the  Prince. 

"Think  o'  one  o'  our  English  princes  steamin' 
his  old  hats,  and  gettin'  gaiters  whitened !  " 

He  used  to  bring  a  shabby  English  man-servant 
with  him  in  frayed  clothes,  who  shaved  him  in 
the  morning,  and  told  tales  in  the  servants'  hall. 

"  The  Prince  is  parsimonious  on  soap,"  he  said, 

"  I    daren't   waste    it.     I    put  on  a  thin,  watery 

lather,  and  then  he  complains  about  me  scraping 

his  chin.     As  if  such  a  beard  don't  require  pails 
lO 


FINDS  TRAGEDY   STILL   HALF  ASLEEP         II 

o'  soap  to  soften  it !  I  feel  inclined  to  cut  out 
that  mustache  o'  his.  I  would  make  *im  look 
better,  don't  ye  think  ?  " 

"  Better  ! — not  it.  His  skin  is  like  a  pig's  back," 
said  one  irreverently.  "  Our  aristocracies'  skin's 
prime  clear  and  soft." 

"  A  prince  !  A  Russian  prince !  Our  Sir 
Saul's  more  a  prince  than  'im.  If  you  saw  our 
gold  plate  and  the  dishes,  and  her  ladyship's 
dresses,  and  Miss  Violet's,  it  would  make  your 
court  dim-tawdry ! " 

While  Sir  Saul's  household  cried  up  his  pos- 
sessions, Prince  Euxine's  man  was  never  content 
till  he  made  his  master  appear  to  be  a  hopelessly 
indigent  aristocrat. 

"  We're  rich  paupers,"  said  he. 

"  It's  like  it,"  said  they.  "  What's  he  coming 
living  on  us  for  ?  Blessing  for  'itn  that  his  sister 
married  our  Sir  Saul." 

But  of  course  the  Prince  received  obsequious 
bows  if  he  met  any  of  the  servants  about  the 
grounds.  They  even  admitted  that  he  seemed  to 
have  as  much  authority  on  the  estate  as  Sir  Saul. 
The  chief  peasant,  old  Isaac  Dagon,  always 
brought  round  to  the  main  door,  an  hour  after 


12  THE  DESTROYER 

the  Prince's  arrival,  the  dappled  gray  mare.  It 
was  on  this  animal — which  Sir  Saul  allotted  to 
his  brother-in-law  because,  as  he  said,  it  was  only 
fit  to  carry  old  women  to  picnics — that  the  Prince 
made  excursions  into  the  woods  and  fields  to  see 
what  progress  was  being  made  round  the  home 
farm. 

"  And  what  sort  o*  home  farm  have  he  ?  "  asked 
the  Rimmon  servants  in  scorn.  "  We'd  be 
ashamed  to  be  an  Englishman  like  you  serving 
such  a  poor  lord." 

"  That's  true,"  said  the  dejected  menial,  "  but 
we  must  take  no  less  than  we  get.  Home  farm  ! 
Ho,  ho  !  nothing  grows  there  but  snow  in  the 
winter  and  ants  and  field  mice  in  the  spring.  It's 
a  moor." 

The  Prince  described  it  otherwise. 

"  You  remember,"  he  said  to  Lady  Rimmon, 
"  the  wood,  our  vfood  where  I  used  to  do  tiaga  ?  * 
Well,  I  have  cut  a  great  deal  of  it  down,  and  I 
think  Saul  should  do  the  same  here,"  and  he 
pointed  in  the  direction  he  meant. 

"  I'm  sure  Saul  will  do  it,  Euxy,"  said  Lady 
Rimmon. 

*  A  Russian  practise  of  waiting  for  game  in  the  woods  at  dusk. 


FINDS  TRAGEDY  STILL  HALF  ASLEEP        1 3 

"And  I'm  sure  Saul  will  do  nothing  of  the 
sort ! "  said  Sir  Saul  in  private. 

Prince  Euxine  had  a  passion  for  removing 
trees,  and  if  he  had  got  his  way  he  would  have 
made  the  Rimmon  estate  as  bare  as  his  own 
moor.     He  enjoyed  free  winds  and  open  lands. 

It  was  always  an  event  when  he  mounted  the 
dappled  mare.  Sir  Saul,  Lady  Rimmon,  and 
old  Isaac  invariably  assisted  in  case  of  any 
accident  when  he  made  the  supreme  leap  from 
a  chair  or  from  the  doorstep.  He  used  to  meet 
old  Moll  with  peace-offerings  of  sugar  and 
buns. 

"  Steady,  old  mistress — do  be  steady  !  "  he  said 
in  a  humble  key. 

Probably  he  never  would  have  mounted  at  all 
had  he  not  thought  it  becoming  in  a  prince.  He 
fed  the  horse  from  the  saddle,  en  chemin,  as  he 
said,  to  keep  it  in  continuous  good-humor.  The 
mare  sometimes  stopped  and  turned  its  head  in 
expectancy  without  being  bid.  It  was  then  that 
Euxine  ventured  to  use  his  riding-whip  in  a  hesi- 
tating way.  But  Moll  knew  how  to  keep  back- 
ing till  the  Prince  surrendered  and  delivered 
another  bon  bon. 


14  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Get  on,  greedy  English  beast  !  "  exclaimed 
Euxine,  and  began  to  flog. 

"  He  might  as  well  ride  a  crab !  "  said  Sir  Saul, 
as  he  watched  these  regressive  movements,  and 
then  turned  in  to  enjoy  an  hour's  respite  from 
his  brother-in-law's  company.  And  it  was  always 
that  hour  which  Lady  Rimmon  chose  to  give  the 
last  touches  to  her  brother's  apartments. 

"  The  Prince  is  coming,  you  know,"  she  used 
to  say  to  Edgar  Besser's  mother,  "  and  we  are 
making  preparations." 

That  was  long  ago  ;  Edgar  Besser's  mother 
was  dead,  but  the  Prince  was  still  periodically 
announced  as  being  on  the  way. 

"  You  were  talking  about  Violet's  wedding," 
he  once  said  to  Lady  Rimmon,  on  his  return 
from  an  excursion  with  Moll,  "  eh,  ma  petite  ?  " 
and  he  turned  to  Violet  herself. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Violet,  and  left  the  room,  with 
a  forced  smile. 

**  Yes,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  as  if  she  had  a 
great  deal  to  communicate,  and  felt  its  oppressive- 
ness. "  Yes,  Violet  appears  to  me  to  be  more 
English  than  Russian.  It  may  come  from  my 
long  stay  in  this  country  that  she  has  taken  on 


FINDS   TRAGEDY   STILL   HALF   ASLEEP         1 5 

English  ways.  She  has  English  pride,  and  takes 
completely  after  Saul.  .  .  .  Well,  we  must  talk. 
We'll  do  nothing  else  all  these  months.  And  I'm 
decided  on  one  thing,  Euxy — the  young  man  will 
be  good.  I  mean  to  lay  stress  on  that — on  his 
character,  you  know — the  shape  of  his  soul,  I 
might  say." 

"  The  soul,  sister,  appears  to  be  a  matter  of 
zoology  nowadays." 

"  Such  days  they  are  ! "  said  Lady  Rimmon,  as 
if  the  age  had  brought  a  special  affliction  to  her- 
self. "  The  sin  of  the  age  is  criticism  ;  everything 
is  criticised  adversely — from  corsets  to  parents. 
A  child  thinks  nothing  now  of  addressing  her 
mother  as  if  she  were  an  unpleasant  tea-gown." 

Euxine  laughed,  and  lit  one  of  his  brother-in- 
law's  cigars. 

"  Where's  Saul  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Oh,  hes  always  out.  Horses,  dogs,  game, 
pigeons,  rabbits,  and — and  other  things  "  (here 
Lady  Rimmon  had  been  forming  her  lips  to  say 
a  word  which  fell  to  pieces  in  her  mouth). 
"That's  what  he's  interested  in.  He  should  have 
kept  a  menagerie  !  " 

"  The  world  is  largely  a  menagerie,  Mathilde. 


l6  THE  DESTROYER 

Have  you  never  thought  how  significant  it  is  that 
the  coats-of-arms  of  the  European  nations  are 
made  up  of  portraits  of  savage  beasts.  We've 
the  bear — England  the  lion — Germany  and  Aus- 
tria hideous  vultures.  I  think  Siena  was  a  bear 
too,  and  Florence  a  lion.  They  shake  hands  with 
each  other  in  a  Mosaic  on  the  floor  of  Siena 
cathedral,  if  I  remember.  Nothing  ever  looked 
so  impossible.  It  all  points  to  the  fact  that  the 
world  is  a  sort  of  frightful  jungle.  It  does  look 
as  if  we  had  the  beasts  for  ancestors,  else  why 
would  we  keep  that  savage  heraldry.  Beaks  and 
claws  are  behind  everything." 

Euxine's  general  timidity  made  him  a  great  en- 
emy to  all  physical  conflict.  But  he  was  far  from 
mild-looking.  The  mustache  which  his  servant 
condemned  on  esthetic  grounds  gave  him  rather 
a  fierce  expression,  which  was  augmented  by  the 
red  gloss  of  his  face.  Physical  bravery  and  beauty 
he  had  none.  He  had  never  been  in  the  army, 
and  had  spent  an  idle  life  maneuvering  his  scanty 
patrimony  with  some  skill.  If  he  was  interested 
in  anything  it  was  in  the  usefulness  of  other 
people  to  himself,  and  he  always  judged  things 
as  a   pure  worldling.     He  would  never  make  a 


FINDS    TRAGEDY   STILL  HALF  ASLEEP        \^ 

man  an  open  enemy  so  long  as  he  might  be  use- 
ful. He  had  no  love  for  his  kinsman,  Sir  Saul, 
but  he  knew  he  was  valuable.  Although  he  re- 
mained a  bachelor  he  had  been  a  great  marriage- 
maker  among  other  people,  but  it  was  generally 
more  to  his  own  profit  than  to  theirs.  Violet 
trembled  for  her  uncle's  ofificiousness. 

The  day  was  when  she  had  had  a  full  respect  for 
him,  and  now  every  one  recognized  it  as  a  matter 
of  course,  although  Violet  had  long  outgrown  it. 

"  You  are  such  a  favorite  with  the  Prince !  " 
her  friends  used  to  say. 

"  Old  dolt  !  "  she  wrote  in  her  book. 

It  was  becoming  difficult  to  keep  up  the  fiction. 
Violet  felt  that  the  day  was  past  when  the  discus- 
sion of  any  project  should  be  reserved  till  his 
arrival.  She  had  been  taught  never  to  look  for 
any  wisdom  from  her  father,  and  always  to  turn 
to  the  Prince.  It  was  not  long  since  he  used  to 
take  her  on  his  knee,  although,  as  he  admitted 
himself,  she  "  had  outgrown  the  situation."  She 
objected  to  the  mustache,  which  pricked  her  like 
a  wire  brush  when  it  came  too  close. 

"  Oh,  uncle,  you're  jaggy  !  "  she  used  to  say. 

Indeed,  it  did  look  as  if  Euxine  was  regretting 


l8  THE   DESTROYER 

the  English  custom  which  forbids  a  union  be- 
tween an  uncle  and  his  niece.  In  Germany,  where 
the  Prince  had  a  small  estate,  it  was  different.  If 
he  and  Violet  had  been  in  Germany 

"  There  is  time,  plenty,"  he  used  to  say  to  his 
sister  when  she  urged  him  on  the  subject  of 
Violet's  wedding.  "  We  shall  talk.  I  intend  to 
take  time  and  be  careful." 

It  seemed  to  be  agreed  on  all  sides  that  it  was 
the  Prince  who  had  the  disposal  of  Violet's  hand. 

"The  task  of  bridegroom-finding,"  he  said, 
"  consists  in  a  skilful  process  of  selection  and 
omission ;  winnowing,  winnowing,  until,  by  per- 
petual rejection,  you  arrive  at  the  few  highest 
types  and  then  make  your  final  choice.  Leave  it 
to  me,  Saul  and  Mathilde." 

Saul  seemed  willing  and  likewise  Mathilde, 
while  Violet,  guarding  silence,  felt  satire  pricking 
her  lip. 

"  Her  eyes,  you  know ! "  said  Euxine  to  Ma- 
thilde, "  and  then  that  Rimmon  gait,  which  really 
we  must  admire,  although  we  were  brought  up  to 
other  things." 

There  was  certainly  a  great  deal  to  talk  about, 
although  Lady  Rimmon's  suspicions  concerning 


FINDS   TRAGEDY    STILL   HALF   ASLEEP         I9 

Sir  Saul  were  not  yet  full-grown.  For  instance, 
Cubitt,  the  woodman,  came  running  back  with  no 
damnatory  evidence. 

"  No,  ladyship,  I've  searched  the  woods  and 
there's  not  a  wench  in't.  I  saw  no  red  cheeks  ex- 
cept the  cranberries !  Sir  Saul  went  two  miles 
with  his  gun,  and  I  came  slow  behind.  He  turned 
at  the  big  pond,  shot  two  wood  pigeons,  and  came 
back  the  same  road." 

"  Keep  your  tongue  to  yourself,  then,"  said 
Lady  Rimmon,  dropping  a  sovereign  in  his  hand, 
"  and  be  ready  when  I  need  you." 

She  went  to  her  room,  and  tried  to  chastise 
herself  out  of  suspicion.  But  could  she  ?  Not 
the  least  of  her  troubles,  surely,  was  the  astound- 
ing fact,  long  known  to  the  neighborhood  and 
only  slowly  brought  home  to  herself,  that  Violet's 
beauty,  which  was  indisputable,  was  somehow 
shared  by  a  little  peasant  girl  in  their  midst, 
Miriam  Dagon.  Lady  Rimmon  had  seen  it 
herself,  and  had  at  first  simply  expressed  her 
astonishment  at  Nature's  freaks:  at  which  all 
the  women  "  teheed  !  " 

"  Simple  Lady  Rimmon !  "  they  said  after- 
wards. 


20  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Now,  if  two  women  met  and  saw  at  a  glance 
that  they  resembled  each  other  very  much,  Euxy, 
they  would  feel  indignant,  wouldn't  they?  " 

"  Almost  more  indignant,"  replied  Euxine, 
"  than  if  their  dresses  at  a  ball  happened  to  be  of 
the  same  stuff  and  made  in  the  same  way.  But 
what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Lady  Rimmon  burst  out  weeping  until  her 
brother  had  to  go  and  take  her  by  the  hand. 

"  What  is  it,  Mathilde  ?  " 

She  had  never  really  brought  herself  to  face 
this  perturbing  truth.  She  refused  to  possess  it, 
and  wanted  to  see  if  her  brother  would  refuse  it 
also  as  the  wicked  hallucination  of  her  own  and 
other  people's  brains. 

"That  peasant  you've  heard  about!  Saul's 
slave  !  "  It  was  a  Russian  habit  which  made  her 
talk  of  slaves. 

She  said  no  more,  but  looked  anxiously  at  her 
brother.  Unluckily,  she  saw  a  dark  smile  pass 
over  his  face,  and  he  slightly  protruded  his  tongue, 
and  pressed  it  against  his  upper  lip,  as  he  always 
did  when  he  discovered  quirks  in  men  and  things. 
He  had  known  it,  then. 

"  Oh  gracious,  is  it  true  ?  "    cried  Lady  Rim- 


FINDS   TRAGEDY   STILL   HALF  ASLEEP        21 

mon  in  a  sore  paroxysm.  "  I  know  it.  Oh  !  .  .  . 
Oh  help  me,  Euxy — is  it  ?  "  and  she  bent  her 
body  double. 

But  Euxine  asked  her  what  she  meant.  He 
said  he  didn't  understand. 

"True?     What?" 

"  Why  did  you  smile  ?  "  she  cried ;  "  it  was 
wicked  of  you  ! " 

"  Smile  ?  I  was  thinking  of  other  things, 
Mathilde.  You're  hysterical ;  I  don't  see  what 
you  mean.     Tell  me." 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  said,  "  I'm  glad  you  don't  see. 
I'm  ill  just ;  it's  nerves.  I'm  always  afraid  some- 
thing bad  will  happen,  and  I  lose  control  of  my- 
self." 

She  went  to  her  room,  while  Euxine  smiled 
and  smiled,  and  contracted  his  eyes,  and  nodded 
his  head  ever  so  gently.  He  looked  very  closely 
at  Sir  Saul  all  that  day,  while  they  spoke  about 
hedging  and  ditching.  His  scrutiny  of  Violet  was 
likewise  as  persistent  though  it  attracted  no  at- 
tention. In  the  afternoon  old  Moll  was  brought 
round,  and  after  the  Prince  had  gone  successfully 
through  the  ordeal  of  jumping  on  her  back,  she 
ambled  with  him  through  the  estate  towards  the 


22  THE  DESTROYER 

home  farm  where  was  "the  little  peasant."  But 
before  he  started  he  went  softly  to  his  sister's 
room,  where  he  found  her  still  sobbing. 

"  Oh,  I'm  better,"  she  said. 

"  I've  kept  the  best  news  till  the  end,"  he  said. 
"  I've  got  a  splendid  proposal  for  Violet.  I 
wished  to  give  you  a  surprise." 

"  Oh,  who  is  it  ?  "  said  Lady  Rimmon,  rallying 
and  brightening.  "  How  good  of  you  !  Yes,  I'm 
living  for  her." 

"  I'll  tell  you  when  I  come  back,"  he  said. 
«  Think." 

"  Oh,  tell  me  just  now,  Euxy ! " 

But  he  went,  saying :  "  Ta,  ta." 


CHAPTER  III 

SOUNDS    AN    ALARUM    CLOCK     WHICH     WAKENS 
TRAGEDY 

Now  it  may  have  been  a  compliment  to  Miriam 
Dagon,  old  Isaac's  child — as  we  were  once  all 
given  to  understand — when  she  heard  that  she 
resembled  Miss  Violet,  but  it  could  be  nothing 
except  distressing  news  for  Violet.  That  Nature» 
prodigal  of  types,  should  have  fixed  a  resemblance 
so  startling  between  well-born  and  base-born 
seemed  sufficiently  intolerable,  but  it  was  pecul- 
iarly malicious  to  place  them  in  sight  of  each 
other.  Yet  there  could  be  no  serious  question  of 
the  truth.  Violet  was  twenty-three  and  Miriam 
only  seventeen,  and,  of  course,  the  one  was  full- 
formed,  whereas  the  other  was  a  raw  girl.  Yet 
the  difference  of  age  and  full  development  only 
served  to  emphasize  the  peculiarity  of  the  resem- 
blance between  them.  Violet  had  got  to  know 
it  early,  not  suddenly,  but  with  a  creeping  sense 

23 


24  THE   DESTROYER 

of  bewilderment  as  her  intelligence  began  to  grasp 
the  possibilities  of  moral  mishap.  It  had  colored 
all  her  girlhood  somberly.  It  had  made  her 
silent  when  she  should  have  laughed  in  gay  rip- 
ples. She  felt  a  sense  of  something  wrong,  but 
it  was  already  so  complex  a  feeling  that  she  could 
not  reduce  it  to  its  cause.  She  had  played  with 
Miriam  although  six  years  were  between  them. 
They  had  played  together  in  innocence,  which 
seemed  cruelly  naive  in  face  of  what  all  the  coun- 
tryside was  saying.  And  then  Miriam  got  to 
know  it  much  later,  with  as  keen  a  surprise — but 
it  was  more  vanity  than  surprise.  It  became  at 
first  pure  foolish  delight.  Each  single  individual, 
old  Isaac  for  one,  for  instance,  got  to  know  it, 
some  sooner,  some  later — Isaac  got  to  know  it 
very  late — by  a  sort  of  unseen  process  of  revela- 
tion which  was  really  the  result  of  unconscious 
stages  of  sight  and  hearing.  We  are  surprised 
that  Mulvey  tolerated  Sir  Saul  so  long.  But 
there  were  causes  for  that ;  also  it  is  easy  enough 
to  say  that  if  the  parties  interested  had  had  any 
wits  Miriam  could  have  been  removed  as  a  baby. 
Would  that  have  been  easy  ?  That  would  have 
brought  things  more  swiftly  still  to  a  more  ugly 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM  CLOCK       2$ 

height.  Would  Isaac  have  allowed  his  dear  baby, 
as  he  supposed  her  to  be,  or  his  child  when  she 
was  two  years,  or  four  years,  or  even  eight  years 
old,  to  be  sent  suddenly  off  to  the  neighboring 
shire,  or  to  a  big  town,  for  instance,  or  anywhere 
else? 

It  would  have  been  interesting  to  have  had 
photographs  of  these  children  at  the  same  rela- 
tive periods  as  they  grew  up.  But,  of  course,  it 
was  meantime  well  for  them  and  for  others  that 
no  such  minute  record  of  their  physiognomy  was 
preserved.  It  was  just  because  little  Miriam  was 
allowed  to  grow  up  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the 
home  farm,  her  face  bespattered  with  the  mud  of 
Sir  Saul's  lands,  so  that  nobody  could  recognize 
what  sort  of  face  it  was,  or  was  going  to  be,  her 
little  hands  all  grimy  from  assiduous  work  in  Sir 
Saul's  byres  and  stables,  that  her  recognition  was 
so  long  put  off.  But  the  day,  of  course,  did  ar- 
rive when  Miriam,  becoming  audacious — she  be- 
came very  audacious — washed  her  face  only  to 
discover  blemishes  of  an  unwashable  sort  on  the 
faces  of  some  other  people.  It  was  when  she 
was  about  twelve  or  fourteen,  and  used  to  sit  in 
church  in  her  crimson  frock,  that  neighbors  used 


26  THE  DESTROYER 

to  say  :  "  Really,  the  child  looks  something  finer 
than  the  Dagon's  heyday  !  "  Alas !  then,  what 
if  Nature  has  just  those  freaks  which  you  compel 
her  to  have ! 

One  thing  was  obvious  in  those  later  years — 
that  if  Miriam  had  been  of  a  build  less  robust,  if 
her  lips  had  been  less  full,  and  her  hair  slightly 
finer  in  texture,  she  might  have  passed  for  a 
younger  sister  of  Violet.  It  would  be  going  too 
far  to  say  that  if  Miriam  had  been  dressed  in 
Violet's  clothes,  and  especially  if  she  had  been 
running  over  the  cornfields  at  a  distance,  she 
would  have  been  taken  for  Violet ;  yet  some  of 
the  women  maintained  it  when  Miriam  came  to 
be  nineteen — and  in  a  case  like  this  women  might 
be  accepted  as  reliable  judges  of  the  appearance 
of  their  own  sex. 

But  it  was  long  since  that  Violet  and  Miriam 
had  been  running  across  the  hayfields  or  wading 
together  in  Sir  Saul's  pond.  Whenever  Violet 
approached,  Miriam  now  used  to  run  across  the 
paths  which  cut  through  the  cornlands,  and  which 
were  generally  in  August  long  red  lanes  of  pop- 
pies. And  as  for  Violet,  she  now  spent  most 
of  her  time   in  looking   at   the  world  from   the 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM  CLOCK       27 

pages  of  her  journal,  and  in  studying  her  par- 
ents. But  she  already  seemed  to  know  all  about 
them. 

Miriam  grew  up  to  be  audacious,  it  was  said. 
For  instance,  when  she  was  not  more  than  nine, 
she  once  met  Sir  Saul  in  the  woods  killing  game. 
He  was  swinging  a  magnificent  pheasant  by  the 
legs.  Miriam  crouched  behind  a  tree,  and  then 
scampered  off. 

"  Mir !  Mir  ! "  cried  Sir  Saul. 

She  stopped  and  came  back,  but  shrunk  away 
again.  He  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  the  pheas- 
ant's feathers  brushed  against  her  face,  leaving  a 
spot  of  hot  blood. 

"See  this  pretty  bird!"  said  Sir  Saul,  sitting 
down  and  taking  her  between  his  knees.  "  Why 
did  you  run  ?  " 

"  Because  you're  wicked,"  said  the  little  minx, 
"killing  pretty  beasts  and  birdies." 

"  Wicked  !  "  he  said  ;  "  look  at  me  !  " 

She  looked  up  in  his  face  with  the  tears  of  shy- 
ness in  her  eyes,  and  then  bent  down  her  sturdy 
neck.  He  took  her  by  the  chin,  and  lifted  her 
face  up  again. 

"  Wicked,  eh,  little  hussey  ?  " 


28  THE  DESTROYER 

"Yes,  you're  wicked  and  old/"  replied  Miriam, 
with  petulant  emphasis. 

She  dodged  successfully  under  the  circle  of  Sir 
Saul's  arms,  and  was  soon  lost  to  view. 

"  Hey  !  "  said  he,  and  sat  talking  interjections 
and  monosyllables  in  the  sun. 

"  ♦  Wicked  and  old  ! '  " 

He  took  the  pheasant's  limp  neck,  and  stififened 
it  up  between  his  fingers.  He  opened  the  beak 
and  looked  in,  and  then  drew  up  the  closing  eyelid. 

"  '  Wicked  and  old  ! '  I  've  heard  before  that 
they  sometimes  go  together." 

And  he  was  troubled  for  some  short  time  by 
that  wisdom  out  of  the  mouth  of  babes. 

But  those  early  years  slipped  by,  and  Miriam 
began  to  give  pretty  curtsies  instead  of  unpleas- 
ant adjectives.  She  used  to  come  tripping  back 
to  Mother  Dagon  to  say  :  "  Oh,  Sir  Saul's  given 
me  two  shillings  !  Sir  Saul's  given  me  five !  Sir 
Saul's  given  me  ten  !  " 

"  Keep  in  'e  house,"  said  buxom  Mother  Dagon 
in  a  flutter,  "  and  don't  go  pushing  yourself  for- 
ward." 

Mother  Dagon  was  Isaac's  second  wife,  and 
was  at  least  fifteen  years  younger. 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM   CLOCK  29 

"  I'll  marry  *er,"  Isaac  said  once  to  Sir  Saul, 
"  marry  'er,  if  ye'U  permit  it,  sir.  She's  skill  in 
liftin'  cream,  and  since  the  old  wife  died  the  cows 
have  drooped." 

Permission  was  given,  and  the  new  Mother 
Dagon,  as  she  was  called  to  keep  up  the  familiar 
name,  came  to  the  home  farm  with  the  freshest 
cheeks  and  best  petticoats  that  all  Mulvey  had 
ever  seen. 

When  Miriam  was  born,  old  Isaac  received  Sir 
Saul's  chaff  good-naturedly  and  in  ignorance  of 
its  meaning. 

"  Aye,  in  old  days,  sir,"  said  Isaac,  stroking  his 
gray  beard  and  laughing,  and  straightening  his 
back,  "  it's  like  kindling  some  new  fire  at  'e  hearth, 
it  is." 

"  It  is,"  said  Sir  Saul,  as  he  gave  a  present  of 
money.  But  of  course  it  was  much  later  that  he 
discovered  the  appropriateness  of  Isaac's  speech. 
For  that  "  new  fire  "  did  kindle  and  made  things 
much  too  warm  for  everybody  at  those  hearths. 

"  For  all  the  world,"  said  Lady  Rimmon, 
after  Miriam  had  come  to  receive  a  present 
on  her  fifteenth  birthday,  "  their  noses  are  the 
same." 


30  THE   DESTROYER 

"  They're  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Sir  Saul, 
"  and  what  although  ?  " 

"  So  funny,  if  not  awkward  and  displeasing. 
It's  the  Rimmon  nose,"  continued  her  ladyship. 
"  I  never  knew  anything  so  foolish."  And  then 
since  foolish  things  should  be  laughed  at,  she 
laughed  over  it  as  heartily  as  she  could.  But 
some  say  these  were  only  subtle  feminine  thrusts 
and  arrows  to  find  the  truth,  as  yet  all  well  con- 
trolled, and  that  it  was  much  later  she  broke 
down. 

"  You  might  as  well  say  it's  the  Roman  nose," 
retorted  Sir  Saul. 

At  any  rate,  the  Rimmon  nose  formed  a  fault- 
less line  from  the  brow,  and  even  Lady  Rimmon 
had  to  admit  that,  whereas  in  Violet's  case  the 
line  was  perfect,  in  Miriam's  there  was  a  hesitancy 
at  the  point. 

"  Turned  up,  in  other  words,"  said  Sir  Saul,  "  as 
it  should  be.     Stop  talking  nonsense." 

In  short,  taken  all  round,  Miriam  was,  as  was 
only  to  be  expected,  molded  on  a  much  rougher 
pattern. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Lady  Rimmon  to  herself,  "  and 
then  the  feet,  you  know,  and  the  coarseness  of 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM  CLOCK  3! 

the  creature's  skin,  her  vulgar  eyes,  hands,  boots 
.  .  .  petticoats  .  .  .  Oh,  I  am  dreaming !  I'm  a 
foolish  woman ! " 

But  she  was  sure  to  contradict  herself  next  day, 
and  to  discover  new  resemblances.  In  a  sort  of 
dread  which  she  could  hardly  explain  to  herself 
she  took  care  that  Miriam  was  kept  out  of  sight 
when  Euxine  came. 

All  this  was  matter  of  congratulation,  at  first, 
among  Miriam's  peasant  friends,  and  Cubitt,  her 
lover  (for  she  had  now  a  lover) — dressed  in  cordu- 
roys, and  working  as  plow  lad  and  planter  under 
old  Isaac  on  the  Rimmon  estate — was  envied  all 
round.  But  he  was  told  jestingly  by  his  friends 
not  to  mistake  mistress  for  maid,  as  he  might  do 
in  the  woods  at  dusk,  for  instance,  and  so  get 
himself  into  difficulty. 

"  Oh,  it's  not  true !  "  said  Miriam,  when  Cubitt 
praised  her  beauty. 

But  her  mirror  contradicted  her  and  agreed 
with  Cubitt.  Surely,  besides,  mirrors  tell  lies 
only  when  they  make  us  ugly. 

"  Oh,  it  be  true ! "  said  Cubitt  in  raptures. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  he  added,  after  he  had  said 
she  was  the  loveliest  of  all  the  maids  of  Mulvey. 


32  THE  DESTROYER 

Moreover,  Miriam  had  caught  on  airs  not  to  be 
expected  among  the  peasantry.  For  instance,  it 
pleased  her  Httle  to  talk  peasant  talk,  and  she 
objected  when  the  low-roofed  barn  was  reeking 
with  the  men's  pipes  in  the  evening.  She  used 
to  throw  open  the  doors  and  windows  imperi- 
ously, while  Mother  Dagon  checked  her  for  her 
insolence,  and  hastily  closed  them  again.  But 
old  Isaac  encouraged  Miriam  with  many  a  laugh 
when  she  corrected  Cubitt's  grammar. 

"  Our  Mir'U  be  goin'  for  to  become  a  great  miss 
like  Miss  Violet,  I'll  be  sure,"  said  he  over  his 
beer  at  night.  "  Ye'll  be  keepin'  the  pace  with 
'er,  Cubitt?" 

Cubitt  longed  to  be  grammatical. 

"  And  you'll  come  and  give  me  a  rub  up  with 
learnin'  o'  nights,"  he  said  to  the  schoolmaster. 
'•  Mir'll  be  fine  and  so  would  I." 

But  it  was  not  merely  a  question  of  grammar 
which  threatened  to  separate  Miriam  and  Cubitt. 
She  seemed  to  take  a  stride  in  advance  every 
year.  Her  mother  strove  to  keep  her  well  in  the 
background,  but  Miriam  was  always  pushing  her- 
self forward.  And  when  one  day  she  came  home, 
saying  that,  as  she  was  running  across  the  corn- 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM   CLOCK  33 

fields,  a  gentleman,  mistaking  her  for  Miss  Violet, 
had  called  out  "  Violet,  Violet !  "  Mother  Dagon 
could  eat  nothing  all  that  day. 

"  Ye'll  ape  the  big  folks !  "  said  Mother  Dagon, 
facing  her,  and  then  turning  away  while  Miriam 
giggled. 

To  Isaac's  amusement  Miriam  could  hardly  be 
got  to  make  a  bed  or  cook  a  potato.  She  used 
to  watch  Cubitt  and  the  old  man  plowing  Sir 
Saul's  land,  and  when  Cubitt  came  up  with  a  can 
of  buttermilk,  when  the  sun  was  high,  "  Ugh ! " 
she  said,  "  what  stuff  !  " 

"  Eh  !  "  said  Cubitt,  returning  to  Isaac,  "  the 
milk's  too  sour  for  Mir,  maybe,"  until  Isaac  made 
the  plow  handles  shake  with  his  laughing. 

If  she  troubled  herself  with  the  corn  sheaves  it 
was  to  take  out  the  poppies  and  blue  corn  flowers 
and  bind  them  round  her  throat.  Mother  Dagon 
was  all  the  more  incensed  since  she  was  herself  so 
industrious  and  shy. 

"  'Deed,  ye're  no  like  me  who  would  rather  run 
than  stand  in  her  ladyship's  way.  What  are  ye 
thinkln'  of?  " 

When  Lady  Rimmon  came  to  the  home  farm 
Mother  Dagon  used  to  be  as  good  as  her  word, 
3 


34  THE  DESTROYER 

and  run  and  shut  herself  in  her  room ;  whereas 
Miriam  used  to  saunter  about  the  dairy,  and  come 
round  eating  nuts  and  berries.  When  Mother 
Dagon  was  called  to  give  an  account  of  her  stew- 
ardship of  the  cows  and  poultry,  she  came  trem- 
bling and  curtseying  with  a  "  God-bless-you- 
ma'am  !  " 

"  Keep  back,  Mir,  keep  back,"  said  Mother 
Dagon,  edging  between  Miriam  and  Lady  Rim- 
mon. 

Certainly  there  was  never  a  better  dairy-woman 
than  Mother  Dagon.  Cows  and  hens  were  re- 
ported to  be  flourishing,  and  were  always  discov- 
ered to  be  so.  Never  were  the  milk-pails  brighter, 
and  all  Mulvey  knew  that  Mother  Dagon's  butter 
was  the  best  ever  made.  Lady  Rimmon  never 
had  a  fault  to  find. 

"  I  would  send  your  girl  into  the  town  to  do 
sewing  or  something,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  eying 
Miriam. 

"  Anything  you  suggest,  ma'am,"  said  Mother 
Dagon,  folding  her  hands,  and  letting  her  eyes 
fall. 

"  Come  here,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  as  she  lifted 
her  glasses  to  her  eyes. 


SOUNDS  AN   ALARUM   CLOCK  35 

Miriam  came  forward,  while  her  mother  began 
to  rub  needlessly,  with  a  dry  linen  cloth,  the 
shining  rim  of  a  milk-pail. 

Lady  Rimmon  surveyed  Miriam  a  long  time 
without  speaking. 

"  You're  like  a  wild  thing  of  the  woods." 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"You're  getting  a  big  girl.  Would  you  not 
like  to  go  and  learn  needlework  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  Don't  say  no  to  her  ladyship,"  said  Mother 
Dagon. 

"  But  her  ladyship  asked  me  what  I  would  like," 
replied  Miriam. 

Miriam's  dark  eyes  were  fixed  on  Lady  Rim- 
mon, who  was  not  pleased  with  their  defiance. 

"  Learn  to  look  more  gently,  girl,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  and  Miriam  dropped  a  curtsey 
prettily. 

Lady  Rimmon  went  back  in  a  curious  mood. 
"  Upon  my  word  !  "  she  said,  "  upon  my  word  !  " 
feeling  a  slight  convulsion  among  her  nerves,  and 
poking  the  soft  earth  with  her  parasol  until  a 
worm  crawled  away. 

It  was  good  that  the  countryside  owed  so  much 


36  THE   DESTROYER 

to  Sir  Saul.  All  Mulvey,  indeed,  was  his  debtor, 
so  that  if  any  one  ventured  to  drop  a  surprising 
hint  about  the  baronet,  he  took  care  to  explain  it 
away  again,  and  generally  ended  up  with  denying 
that  he  ever  had  dropped  it.  Mother  Dagon's 
reputation  was  meantime  safe,  because  of  the 
cowardice  which  prevented  her  enemies  attacking 
her.  Isaac  was  allowed  to  sleep  since  he  was  too 
dull  to  discover  things  for  himself.  Sir  Saul's 
munificence  to  the  neighborhood  was  too  highly 
valued,  his  benefactions  were  too  solid  for  any 
one  to  run  the  risk  of  forfeiting  them  by  investi- 
gating incidents  that  might  turn  out  in  the  end 
to  have  occurred  so  obscurely  as  to  be  no  longer 
capable  of  proof.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  this  con- 
spiracy of  silence,  there  was  now  and  again  a  low 
"  Ha  !  ha !  "  muttered  and  ejaculated  all  over  the 
countryside,  a  low  "  Ha  !  ha !  "  which  might  any 
day  become  an  ugly  roar  to  shake  the  old  House 
of  Rimmon  to  its  foundations. 

"You  see,"  observed  the  silent  Violet  in  her 
journal,  "  how  the  state  of  the  world's  emotions 
depends  on  the  state  of  its  finances.  These 
people  know  all  about  it.  But  because  my  father 
gives  them  loads  of  coal  in  winter,  and  hundreds 


SOUNDS   AN   ALARUM   CLOCK  37 

of  rabbits  in  autumn,  fruit  in  summer,  milk,  bread, 
flour,  potatoes,  everything,  in  short,  they  suppress 
their  moral  conscience  for  the  sake  of  Economics. 
Your  moral  indignation  will  run  the  chance  of 
being  curiously  enfeebled  if  the  person  to  whom 
it  is  addressed  happens  to  be  your  benefactor. 
Even  if  you  inwardly  condemn  him,  you  will  let 
him  alone  in  public.  My  father !  I  loathe  him. 
But  I  don't  know  how  to  act.  A  terrible  struggle 
may  be  coming.  Poor  mamma  !  .  .  .  I  wonder 
how  Besser  is.  He  will  not  remain  a  priest.  Oh, 
I  am  sick !  " 

Violet  looked  about  for  consolation  but  found 
none.  She  was  delicately  reticent  to  her  mother 
whom  she  pitied.  She  had  long  discovered  the 
tyranny  of  other  wills,  centuries  back,  over  her 
own.  "  We  are  all  projections  of  a  moving  line 
far  behind  us,"  she  said,  "  and  we  help  to  push  it 
further."  But  Violet  tried  to  accept  resignedly 
that  subtlety  of  her  fate,  "  They  have  made  me 
handsome,  and  thoughtful,"  she  said,  "  those 
climbing  centuries,  climbing  up  to  me !  They 
have  been  working  out  this  Rimmon  type.  I 
must  accept  the  bitter  with  the  sweet.  But  the 
bitter  is  very  bitter.     What  right  has  the  peasant 


38  THE   DESTROYER 

Miriam,  my  father's  slave,  to  the  distinction  of  the 
Rimmons?  We  are  old,  and  are  traced  back  to 
ancient  Syrian  greatness.  It  is  a  belief  that  my 
ancestors  were  priests  of  Naaman's  God,  and  were 
given  the  honor  of  his  name.  And  here,  in  Eng- 
land, the  stock  was  to  be  vulgarized  .  .  .  Miriam 
is  like  me !  Think  of  the  awkwardness  when  my 
lover  comes  .  .  .  Half  a  woman's  charm  consists 
in  the  uniqueness  of  her  beauty.  But  if  I  am  like 
a  peasant  .  .  .  Oh !  I  wonder  if  Besser  ever  saw 
her.  She  has  even  physical  advantages.  I  am 
the  attenuated  type.  She  has  fresh,  peasant 
blood  mingling  with  ours.  A  problem  : — Suppose 
two  girls,  twins,  for  instance,  were  almost  abso- 
lutely alike,  just  as  the  Corsican  brothers  were, 
and  a  man  was  attracted  by  one  of  them  ...  I 
shall  remove  her  !  " 

In  those  days  she  seldom  appeared  beyond  the 
grounds  of  Rimmon  House.  But  she  drove  with 
her  mother  out  of  the  woods,  and  used  to  tell  the 
coachman  not  to  drive  back  by  Mulvey.  She 
had  also  ceased  going  to  church  where  she  was 
stared  at.  They  used  to  drive  along  the  road 
which  circled  the  Bessers'  house.  The  house  was 
closed  because  the  heir  was  away. 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM   CLOCK  39 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  she  wondered. 

Lady  Rimmon  began  to  wish  after  all  that 
Edgar  would  come  home,  so  that  she  might  see 
him  and  present  him  as  a  candidate  to  Euxine. 
It  was  with  a  shudder  that  she  drove  past  The 
Gates,  a  large  asylum,  which  was  considered  the 
one  blot  on  Mulvey.  It  was  only  two  miles 
from  Besser's  house,  and  was  partly  screened  by 
trees.  Objections  had  been  raised  by  all  the 
proprietors  except  Sir  Saul,  who  was  not  per- 
turbed by  such  things. 

"  I'd  rather  have  a  graveyard  !  "  said  Lady 
Rimmon,  shuddering  in  her  carriage  beside  Violet, 
and  they  both  heard  the  barking  of  the  four  great 
dogs.  "  Why  do  we  always  come  this  way? 
Just  look  at  them  in  the  windows  shaking  their 
fists!" 

Violet  thought  differently,  and  had  even  been 
at  The  Gates  many  a  time  out  of  curiosity,  but 
had  never  told  her  mother.  She  would  have 
liked  to  nurse  those  sick  minds.  Dr.  Bede  will- 
ingly allowed  her  to  come. 

"  What  mostly  helps  to  fill  a  place  like  this, 
doctor?  " 

"  Ah,  what  interest  have  you  in  that  ?  " 


40  THE   DESTROYER 

"  I'm  not  a  baby,  and  I  don't  shudder  like 
mamma." 

"  I'm  glad,  then,"  he  said.  "  Your  sex  is  gen- 
erally cowardly  in  face  of  scientific  truths.  Do 
you  really  wish  to  know  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Violet,  "  I'm  a  born  nurse,  and 
often  wish  somebody  would  turn  ill  for  me  to 
nurse." 

"  Well,  then,"  replied  placid  Dr.  Bcde,  "  it's  the 
war-god  who  most  fills  our  house  here." 

"  The  war-god  ?  " 

"  Yes.  There  are  so  many  of  them !  But  I 
mean  Love.  Love  is  a  war-god,  not  easy-going 
at  all,  as  weak  novelists  make  out,  but  terrible, 
he.  Hundreds  here  are  all  shot  through  by  his 
arrows." 

"  Love  is  a  Destroyer  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  may  become  a  Destroyer  in  two 
ways.  I  mean  if  you  obey  him  to  excess,  and 
also  if  you  disohey\i\v(\.  altogether.  If  you  disobey 
him  he  will  avenge  himself,  perhaps." 

"  Priests  disobey  him,"  said  Violet  timidly. 

"  My  dear,  the  world  is  extremely  blind ! 
There  is  a  sort  of  marriage  of  which  it  knows 
nothing,  clandestine — but  not  as  it  understands 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM   CLOCK  4I 

that  word — I  will  call  it  dream-marriage.  There 
is  a  secret  destruction  when  two  have  seen  each 
other  but  cannot  come  near,  and  only  kiss  hands 
in  their  dreams." 

Violet  shuddered.  She  had  known  the  power 
of  that  dream-gesture. 

"  Ah  !  the  world  !  —  the  respectable  world 
knows  nothing  of  the  physiology  of  that  sorrow," 
added  the  doctor. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Violet,  who  had  turned  pale, 
"  I've  often  thought  that  our  house  would  do 
admirably  for  a  place  like  this.  It's  so  somber — 
almost  the  color  of  dead  seaweed.  It's  been 
sitting  in  the  earth's  decay  for  hundreds  of  years, 
and  it  is  ju$t  fit  for  an  old  house  of  dotage." 

"  Oh,  no  !  surely  not,"  said  Dr.  Bede,  lifting 
up  his  hands  deprecatingly,  "  as  long  as  you're 
there.  Miss  Violet." 

Violet  went  home  and  filled  her  book  with 
grave  thoughts.  "  I'll  fill  it  with  smiles  by  and 
by,"  she  said,  "  when  my  lover  comes."  Meantime 
she  wrote :  "  Beauty  has  come,  like  Christ,  to 
send  not  peace  but  a  sword.  I'm  not  a  wise  old 
maid  at  all,  nor  a  blue-stocking."  She  measured 
her   foot  against   the   leg   of   one  of  Sir   Saul's 


42  THE   DESTROYER 

smallest  terriers,  and  found,  with  a  laugh,  that  it 
was  the  same  length.  Yet,  when  she  heard  her 
beauty  praised,  the  pleasure  seemed  to  die  out  of 
her  eyes  and  from  her  lips,  and  she  became  afraid. 

At  first  the  truth  of  the  disgrace  of  the  old 
House  of  Rimmon  had  offered  itself  to  her 
secretly,  evasively,  disappearing  and  then  coming 
to  her  again,  until  at  last  it  came  and  shook  her. 
She  always  remembered  an  August  night  which 
saw  her  weep  till  the  morning.  She  was  stand- 
ing at  the  edge  of  the  lake  which  was  considered 
the  chief  ornament  of  her  father's  grounds.  The 
evening  was  "  full  of  linnets'  wings,"  and  the 
trees  were  shining.  She  saw  her  father  come  out 
of  the  wood  with  his  gun.  As  usual,  he  had  been 
shooting,  but  he  had  only  two  brace  of  grouse 
slung  round  his  neck  with  their  heads  dangling  in 
front. 

"  Poor  little  things !  "  said  Violet. 

Sir  Saul,  who  was  fifty-four,  looked  well  in  his 
sporting  suit.  He  hardly  ever  wore  anything 
else.  He  was  the  leading  sportsman  of  the  dis- 
trict. He  had  no  great  intelligence,  but  he  man- 
aged his  lands  well.  Violet  feared  him.  She 
knew  that  he  was  a  more  powerful  nature  than 


SOUNDS  AN  ALARUM   CLOCK  43 

her  uncle.  There  was  a  strong  resemblance 
between  father  and  child.  For  instance,  the 
unmistakable  Rimmon  nose.  She  watched  him 
come  through,  and  a  strange  feeling  possessed 
her  for  the  first  time.  She  would  have  liked  to 
run  away.  Why,  she  could  not  have  told.  But 
she  repressed  herself,  waited,  and  said  "  Good- 
evening,  father ! "  and  asked  why  he  had  had 
such  poor  luck. 

"  What  ds^you  doing  here  ?  "  he  said,  and  passed 
on  with  an  attempted  smile. 

She  watched  him  retreating,  but  turned  her 
head  at  the  sound  of  a  voice  in  the  woods.  It 
was  Miriam  singing  : — 

And  the  poppies  are  red. 

And  the  cornflowers  blue ; 
Ah  !  bright  is  our  bed 

When  the  moon  is  new. 

Violet  waited,  but  the  voice  stopped.  She  heard, 
however,  the  crackle  of  dead  twigs, as  if  someone 
was  extricating  herself  from  the  brushwood  where 
the  cranberries  grow. 

"  Miriam  !  Miriam  !  "  she  called.  She  felt  an 
overmastering  impulse  to  speak,  but  especially  to 
look  at  Miriam. 


44  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Miriam  ! " 

"  Yes,  I'm  coming." 

The  wood  sloped  down  to  the  lake,  and  Miriam 
was  mounting  to  the  ridge.  Presently  she  ap- 
peared extricating  herself  from  a  thorn-bush.  She 
was  as  tall  as  Violet,  and  rounder.  Only  ten 
minutes  had  gone  since  Sir  Saul  had  passed. 

"  What  is  it.  Miss  Violet?"  said  Miriam,  smil- 
ing shyly,  with  lips  made  redder  by  the  red 
berries. 

"  Come  down,"  said  Violet,  turning  pale. 

"  Are  you  ill,  miss  ?  " 

"Yes  ...  oh!" 

The  recognition  came  on  her  too  suddenly,  and 
made  her  almost  faint. 

"  Shall  I  run?"  exclaimed  Miriam,  astonished. 
•'  Oh,  Miss  Violet,  dear,  let  me  help  you  ! "  and 
she  came  and  held  her  gently. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Violet,  *'  leave  me  ! " 

She  turned  her  back  on  Miriam,  and  then  went 
forward  homewards,  in  spasmodic  leaps,  while 
Miriam  stood  amazed. 


CHAPTER  IV 

ATTENDS  THE  UNBURYING  OF  AN  OLD  SIN 

It  came  then,  at  last,  to  be  Prince  Euxine's 
turn  to  discover  why  the  old  House  of  Rimmon 
was  tottering  uneasily.  And,  of  course,  he  was 
likely  to  increase  those  oscillations  of  its  fortunes. 
For  whereas  Violet,  out  of  pride — and  perhaps 
half  out  of  self-interest — remained  silent,  and 
added  only  a  little  more  slumbering  fire  to  that 
hot  fuel  of  suspicion,  Prince  Euxine  threatened 
to  bring  things  almost  to  the  point  of  conflagration. 

"  Not,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  a  sort  of  moral  in- 
cendiary. See  how  long  I  have  let  things  sim- 
mer. I  don't  approve  of  the  people  who  will- 
ingly set  fire  to  another  man's  life.  A  clumsy 
preacher  does  so.  Perhaps  society  would  go  col- 
lectively mad  if  some  of  us  didn't  sin.  And 
really  it  is  a  sort  of  moral  arson,  that  doctrine  of 
hell.     You  see,*'  he  reasoned,  "  I  have  a  regard 

45 


46  THE  DESTROYER 

for  my  sister,  but  then  my  brother-in-law  is  indis- 
pensable to  us  both  !  " 

For  instance,  he  had  had  often  pecuniary  assist- 
ance from  Sir  Saul.  Euxine  saw,  therefore,  that 
what  he  should  do  was  to  make  himself  indispen- 
sable to  his  brother-in-law.  He  had  long  suspected 
delinquency.  His  ear  had  been  open  to  the  back- 
biters, but  he  had  never  looked  very  closely  at 
Miriam.  Like  a  careful  man  of  the  world  he  let 
tragedy  lie  quietly  till  it  began  to  turn  in  its  own 
lair.  It  was  when  he  saw  the  presentiments  at 
work  in  his  sister  that  he  thought  it  necessary  to 
take  a  step  or  two  for  the  common  good. 

"Saul,  my  dear  brother,"  he  said  after  that 
strange  conversation  he  had  had  with  his  sister, 
"  Violet  is  very  handsome.  She  is  very  like  you, 
Saul !  There  is  no  single  girl  like  her  that  I 
know.  I  have  noticed  that  no  really  beautiful 
woman — unless  perhaps  in  the  case  of  sisters — 
was  ever  like  any  other.  We  are  disappointed  if 
we  discover  no  special  characteristic  which  makes 
a  woman's  beauty  entirely  her  own.  Beauty  con- 
sists in  a  subtle  emphasis  on  one  or  two  features, 
eh,  Saul  ?  Well,  then,  you  should  be  proud  of 
Violet." 


ATTENDS  THE   UNBURYING   OF  AN  OLD   SIN     47 

"  I  am  proud  of  her,  damn  it  all ! ''  said  Sir  Saul. 

"Yes,  but  they  say  there  is  a  girl  here  that  re- 
sembles her.  It  must  be  in  some  far-off  sort  of 
way.     Do  tell  me,  is  it  possible  ?  " 

Sir  Saul's  eye  had  become  too  steady  by  long 
gun  practise  to  wince  at  a  question  like  this,  but 
there  was  a  slight  tremulousness  about  the  mus- 
cles of  his  face. 

"What?"  he  said,  contracting  his  expression 
as  if  he  hadn't  understood. 

"Oh!"  said  Euxine,  laughing  outright,  "they 
say  little  Miriam  is  like  Violet.  I  haven't  seen 
the  child  for  a  long  time.  But  it's  too  ridiculous  ! 
I  have  heard  of  subtle  influences  between  people, 
and  that  you  actually  become  like  the  people  you 
live  with." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Sir  Saul,  ''you  should  be 
getting  very  like  me  !  " 

Euxine  received  the  thrust  good-naturedly,  be- 
cause he  felt  sure  of  his  man. 

"  I'm  going  out,"  said  Sir  Saul  quickly.  "  Will 
you  come  ?" 

"  Not  just  at  present,  Saul,"  said  Euxine,  put- 
ting on  his  eyeglass  and  looking  at  the  retreating 
form  of  his  brother-in-law. 


48  THE   DESTROYER 

He  observed  that  after  such  encounters,  and 
especially  after  this  particular  conversation,  Sir 
Saul  began  to  whistle  and  hum. 

"  I  do  not  think  that  whistle  is  gay,"  said  Euxine 
privately.  "  Men  have  a  habit  of  humming  in  a 
peculiar  manner  when  discomfort  is  at  hand.  It 
is  like  the  low  whistle  of  the  coming  storm." 

At  any  rate.  Sir  Saul  went  out  of  doors  hum- 
ming a  low  "  damn  !  damn  !  "  while  Euxine 
mounted  old  Moll,  told  her  to  be  never  so  good, 
and  went  ambling  towards  the  home  farm,  hum- 
ming a  little  "  damn!  damn  !  "  of  his  own. 

The  home  farm  was  a  very  prosperous-looking 
and  solid  building.  It  formed  a  square  which 
was  open  at  one  end.  The  open  side  was  closed 
by  long  folding  gates  which  Miriam  used  to  guard 
with  great  joy  when  the  carters  came  and  went 
with  the  produce  of  the  fields.  She  admitted  the 
cows  one  by  one,  giving  a  pat  to  her  favorites  and 
a  thump  to  her  enemies.  In  rainy  weather  the 
courtyard  was  a  bespattered  place,  owing  to  the 
extreme  softness  of  the  earth,  which  is  character- 
istic of  all  Mulvey.  But  Mother  Dagon,  with  the 
permission  of  Sir  Saul,  had  got  a  little  garden  cut 
out  in  the  middle,  surrounded  by  a  wicker  railing 


ATTENDS   THE   UNBURYING   OF  AN   OLD   SIN     49 

and  planted  with  shrubs,  so  that  in  dreary  weather 
the  courtyard  had  one  spot  of  brightness.  The 
long  byre  formed  one  side  of  the  square,  with  the 
milk-house  at  the  end,  while  the  stables,  cart- 
houses,  and  plow-houses  formed  the  side  oppo- 
site. The  Dagons  occupied  the  remaining  side, 
and  the  workers  lived  above.  There  was  an  en- 
trance leading  to  the  pasture  land  which  ran  down 
about  the  length  of  five  acres  towards  the  woods. 
Sir  Saul  was  proud  of  his  estate.  Whatever  mis- 
take he  had  made  in  its  management  had  been 
due  to  the  advice  of  his  brother-in-law. 

"  Too  dense,"  said  Euxine,  "  cut  down  more 
wood." 

But  for  every  tree  that  was  felled  two  were 
planted. 

"  He  must  have  his  wood  to  hide  in,"  thought 
Euxine,  as  he  came  out  of  it  along  the  road  which 
led  in  a  straight  line  to  the  door  of  the  home 
farm.  As  he  approached  he  saw  Mother  Dagon 
sitting  with  Miriam  on  the  bench.  Mother  Dagon 
rose  and  went  in,  telling  Miriam  to  follow.  But 
Miriam  remained,  and  rose  to  curtsey  to  the 
Prince.  The  home  farm  used  to  be  thrown  into 
a  great  flutter  when  he  made  his  inspection.     He 


50  THE  DESTROYER 

was  considered  to  be  more  formidable  than  Sir 
Saul.  When  it  was  thought  that  he  might  be 
coming,  there  was  a  combined  effort  among  the 
workmen  and  workwomen.  And  those  who  be- 
lieved it  was  more  important  to  please  the  Prince 
than  Sir  Saul,  ran  to  hold  the  bridle. 

"  Eh,  little  wench,"  said  Euxine,  as  Miriam  rose 
to  salute  him,  "  and  how  are  you  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  I  thank  you.  Prince,"  replied 
Miriam,  who  was  growing  slender  at  that  time. 

She  looked  the  Prince  very  full  in  the  face, 
and  smiled  not  too  boldly.  He  did  not  dis- 
mount, but  took  out  his  eyeglass  to  examine 
Miriam. 

"  Long  long  time,  little  minxsie,  since  I've 
seen  you.     Where  have  you  been? " 

"  With  my  auntie  in  the  village,"  she  said. 

"  Ha  !  "  said  the  Prince,  and  looked  at  her  up 
and  down. 

He  dismounted  laboriously,  uttering  an  ejacula- 
tion when  he  met  the  ground  too  sharply  with  his 
gouty  foot.  He  told  Cubitt,  who  was  standing 
by  the  bridle,  to  take  the  beast  to  the  stable. 
Then  he  sat  down  on  the  bench,  and  invited 
Miriam  to   chat.     Miriam  sat  at  the  end,  and 


ATTENDS  THE  UNBURYING  OF  AN  OLD  SIN      5 1 

smiled  acquiescently  at  whatever  the  Prince  was 
pleased  to  say. 

"  Why,"  he  said,  "  you  don't  look  as  if  you 
work  on  Sir  Saul's  fields.  Your  cheeks  are  not 
red  and  brown  like  a  little  peasant's.  Come 
nearer." 

"  No,"  said  she,  coming  nearer,  **  Sir  Saul  says 
I'm  not  to.     I'm  not  strong  enough." 

"  Ha !  "  exclaimed  Euxine,  "  let  me  feel  your 
pulse  to  see  if  you  haven't  a  strong  little  peasant's 
heart." 

He  drew  Miriam  towards  him. 

"  One — two,  one — two,  ah,  it's  a  strong  little 
machine  !  " 

He  then  examined  her  hand,  looking  at  the 
form  and  fineness  of  it. 

"  Pointed  fingers,"  he  noted  ;  "  nice  little  body 
woven  of  two  very  different  webs  !  " 

Miriam  wondered  when  he  said,  "  Now,  put 
out  your  little  foot."  She  advanced  it  below  her 
skirt,  whereupon  Euxine  said,  half  audibly,  "  Ah, 
it's  not  a  little  foot,"  and  concluded  that  there 
the  peasant  element  predominated. 

"  Clumsy  little  peasant  foot,"  he  said,  tapping 
it  with  his  riding-whip,  while  Miriam  pulled  it  in. 


52  THE   DESTROYER 

"  But  I've  never  really  seen  your  pretty  face, 
Miriam,"  he  said.     "  Let  me  see  your  face." 

She  turned  blushing,  while  he  crumpled  his 
cheek  up  towards  his  eyeglass,  to  keep  it  steady, 
and  peered  through. 

"Sir  Saul  says  you're  not  to  work,"  he  said 
absently  while  he  looked  at  her. 

"  No,  your  worship,"  says  she. 

"  I  observe,"  he  pondered  silently,  "  the  same 
quick  inquiry  which  irritates  one  in  Violet  and 
Saul !  How  curious,  just  where  it  can  be  so 
easily  seen  the  truth  lies  open  here  on  her  face. 
If  this  creature  had  been  given  an  aristocratic 
spine,  or  some  internal  organ  aristocratically  made, 
which  no  one  would  have  noticed  ;  if  her  teeth 
even,  and  those  lower  physiological  details  had 
been  given  the  secret  to  keep,  how  lucky  for  Sir 
Saul !  But  here  the  plain  tale  is  written  for  the 
sun  to  shine  on." 

Miriam  had  never  undergone  so  close  an  in- 
spection. 

"  A  delicate  little  hussy  of  a  peasant !  "  ex- 
claimed Euxine,  tapping  her  shoulder.  "  Tell 
your  mother  I  wish  to  see  her." 

Miriam  went  in,  but  Mother  Dagon  had  been 


ATTENDS  THE  UNBURYING  OF  AN   OLD   SIN      53 

preparing  herself,  for  she  had  heard  everything 
from  the  window  above.  Miriam  found  her 
wringing  her  hands.  The  blood  had  left  her 
cheeks. 

"  What's  wrong  ?  "  asked  Miriam.  "  Come  down 
to  the  Prince." 

"  Oh,"  said  her  mother,  "  tell  'm  I'll  be  direct- 
ly." "  Here'U  be  the  close  o't !  "  said  Mother 
Dagon  to  herself. 

The  Prince  sat  waiting,  and  nodding  his  head 
in  the  accustomed  manner. 

"  We'll  arrange  it  nicely,"  he  said.  "  The  his- 
torical family  row  will  take  place  according  to  my 
own  recipe." 

He  was  disturbed  in  these  reflections  by  Mother 
Dagon,  who  came  bustling  bravely  out,  lifting  the 
two  borders  of  her  apron  as  she  curtsied. 

"  God  bless  your  highness !  " 

"  God  bless  you,  my  good  woman !  We  all 
need  it." 

"  Keep  back,  Mir,"  said  Mother  Dagon,  for 
Miriam  was  showing  herself  at  the  door  again. 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  Prince ;  "  come  forward, 
Miriam,"  and  he  looked  at  Mother  Dagon,  whose 
eyes  sought  the  ground. 


54  THE   DESTROYER 

"  She's  a  fine  girl,  Mother  Dagon." 

"  Yes,  Prince,"  says  she. 

"  She's  not  working  in  the  fields  or  in  the 
dairy  ?  " 

"  No,  Prince,"  said  Mother  Dagon  gently. 

"Why?" 

Mother  Dagon  gave  Sir  Saul's  pleasure  as  the 
reason. 

"My  good  woman,"  thought  Euxine,  "that 
blush  of  yours  is  a  very  clumsy  little  drop  scene ! 
It  lights  up,  not  covers,  the  little  Volkspiel 
within  ! " 

"  Sir  Saul  is  good,  isn't  he  ?  "  he  said,  looking 
her  up  and  down  the  way  he  had  surveyed  Miriam. 

"Yes,  Prince,"  they  both  said  simultaneously. 

"  Miriam  doesn't  take  after  you,''  said  the 
Prince. 

Mother  Dagon's  heart  was  beating  as  it  had 
never  beat  before.  Prince  Euxine  saw  the  corners 
of  her  mouth  beginning  to  fall.  "  Ah,  this  is  the 
physiological  moment !  "  he  thought. 

But  he  saved  things  by  calling  out,  "  Holloa, 
Cubitt." 

Cubitt  came  running,  and  the  Prince  ordered 
his  horse. 


ATTENDS   THE    UNBURYING   OF  AN   OLD   SIN      55 

"  She  doesn't  take  after  Isaac  either  ?  "  he 
asked  Mother  Dagon  again. 

"  Isaac's  at  the  turnips,  Prince,"  says  Mother 
Dagon. 

The  Prince  contracted  his  eyes  in  the  Russian 
fashion,  and  looked  at  her  through  his  eyelashes. 
He  let  her  evasion  pass,  however,  and  began  to 
chaff  her  on  Isaac's  age, 

"  The  old  man's  all  right  and  hearty,"  said 
Mother  Dagon,  laughing  now. 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  Prince,  "  spring  marrying 
autumn  will  never  do.  You  must  take  care  of 
this  girl.     It's  to  be  Cubitt,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Oh  aye,"  said  Mother  Dagon,  rallying,  as 
Cubitt  came  along  leading  Moll. 

"  He's  a  strapping  boy,"  said  the  Prince,  turn- 
ing to  Miriam. 

Miriam  pouted  as  if  she  didn't  believe  it.  Cubitt 
gave  her  a  lover's  wink  as  he  helped  the  Prince  to 
climb  Moll. 

"  Good  day,"  said  the  Prince  to  them  all  frig- 
idly, and  rode  away. 

Cubitt  playfully  made  a  run  at  Miriam,  but  she 
dodged  him. 

"  Eh,  Mir  !  Mir !  "  he  exclaimed,  doubling  his 


56  THE   DESTROYER 

knuckles  on  his  hips  as  he  looked  at  her  running 
off. 

Things  were  becoming  incomprehensible  on  the 
Rimmon  estate,  thought  Cubitt.  He  took  up  his 
spade  and  went  down  in  silence  to  the  turnip 
field.  But  he  couldn't  work,  and  Isaac  quarreled 
him  for  uneven  plowing.  Yet  Cubitt  had  taken 
prizes  at  Mulvey  agricultural  sports,  and  no  one 
could  match  him  in  breaking  up  hilly  ground. 
On  the  most  recalcitrant  soil  he  always  left  per- 
fect curves.  But  this  day  his  head  was  unsteady, 
and  the  plow  rocked  before  him,  leaving  a 
wriggling  furrow  behind.  He  was  largely  built, 
with  features  roughened  by  exposure  to  the  wind 
and  sun.  Mostly  taciturn  on  the  field  and  at  the 
fireside,  he  could  yet  laugh  heartily  with  Miriam, 
and  his  courtship  had  been  full  of  exquisite  rough 
chivalry.  When  he  said  "  Mir  !  Mir  !  "  with  his 
deep  voice,  and  looked  at  her  out  of  eyes  which 
had  a  good  deal  of  submerged  peasant  fire  and 
melancholy,  he  had  been  irresistible.  But  he  had 
an  uneasy  suspicion  that  Miriam  was  growing  too 
fine,  and  every  day  he  seemed  to  see  less  of  her. 

"No,  I  can't  go  on  !  "  he  exclaimed,  and  made 
the  horses  stop  at  the  top  of  a  furrow. 


ATTENDS  THE   UNBURYING  OF  AN  OLD   SIN      57 

The  plowshare  stuck  in  the  thick  soil,  and  one 
of  the  horses  neighed. 

"  Where  are  ye  goin'  ?  "  called  Isaac,  leaning 
on  his  hoe,  as  he  saw  Cubitt  turning  the  horses 
on  the  grass. 

"  To  Mir !  "  said  Cubitt,  and  trudged  back  to 
the  home  farm. 

He  found  her  on  the  bench  where  the  Prince 
had  found  her,  and  she  was  now  sewing  a  kerchief 
in  the  sun. 

"  Look  here,  Mir,"  he  faltered,  feeling  his 
throat  big  as  he  stood  before  her,  "  have  I  done 
anything  to  vex  ye  ?  " 

"  No,"  says  she,  keeping  her  eyes  on  her  needle- 
work. 

"  I  thought  I  had,"  said  Cubitt,  as  he  sat  beside 
her.    "  But  ye've  done  something  to  vex  me,  Mir." 

"  Don't  be  stupid,"  said  Miriam. 

"  Well,  Mir,  ye  don't  like  me  as  well  as  before. 
Are  we  not  going  to  wed,  Mir  ?  " 

"  Ye'll  have  to  be  higher  up,"  said  Miriam, 
avoiding  his  glance, 

"  Oh,  I'm  poor !  "  said  Cubitt  bitterly. 

"  It's  not  that,"  protested  Miriam,  "  but  there's 
enough  time." 


58  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Well,  I'm  willin'  to  Avait,"  said  Cubitt,  "  but 
lovers  shouldn't  be  a  killing  of  time.  And  ye 
know  I'm  true.  I'd  run  to  the  death  for  ye, 
Mir." 

"  Oh,  it's  cruel,"  said  Miriam,  with  her  eyes 
filling  as  his  tone  became  gentler,  "  to  talk  like 
that." 

"  Eh,  dearie !  "  said  Cubitt  as  he  embraced  her. 
"  Well,  we're  friends  and  lovers  again." 

And  for  the  moment  it  was  true. 

Meantime,  Moll  ambled  back  with  Prince  Eux- 
ine,  who  was  not  very  indignant.  "  We  won't 
allow  all  the  world,"  he  said,  "  to  be  present  at 
the  unburying  of  this  old  sin."  He  rather  felt 
encouraged  in  his  own  startling  project,  which 
was  to  marry  Violet.  In  Germany  uncles  may 
marry  their  nieces.  He  and  Violet  could  retire 
to  Germany.  Violet  would  doubtless  be  provided 
with  an  excellent  dowry.  Sir  Saul,  of  all  people, 
would  agree,  and  likely  Mathilde.  when  she  heard 
that  this  was  the  "  splendid  proposal."  It  might 
be  a  case  of  spring  marrying  autumn,  but  the 
thing  was  different  surely  when  "  autumn  "  was  a 
well-preserved  old  aristocrat. 

He  had  no  sooner  made  these  reflections  when 


ATTENDS   THE   UNBURYING   OF  AN   OLD   SIN      59 

he  saw  Sir  Saul  through  the  trees,  crouching  as 
if  in  the  act  of  taking  an  aim. 

"  Good  God,  stop  !  "  he  cried. 

Sir  Saul  rose  and  looked  round,  and  Euxine 
trotted  up  the  carriage  road  which  cut  through 
the  woods. 

"  Eh !  "  exclaimed  Euxine  out  of  breath,  "  you 
might  have  had  us  both,  Moll  and  me." 

'*  Indeed  I  might,"  said  Sir  Saul.  "  Doing 
tiaga,  in  fact." 

He  then  playfully  pricked  Moll,  and  teased  her 
tail  until  she  began  to  kick  and  stamp,  making 
Euxine  roll  in  the  saddle. 

"  Stop  it,  Saul,"  said  he.     "  I  wish  to  dismount." 

"  Dismount  then." 

Euxine's  consciousness  of  his  physical  coward- 
ice made  him  vindictive  at  that  moment.  He 
dismounted  painfully,  and  let  Moll  snuff  among 
the  brushwood.  Perhaps  it  was  now  Sir  Saul's 
turn  to  play  the  coward.  The  two  men  looked 
at  each  other  as  if  business  was  in  the  air.  Con- 
trary to  his  usual  habit,  and  perhaps  as  a  result  of 
his  fright,  Euxine  began  abruptly. 

"  By  the  way,  I  don't  think  Mathilde  is  well," 
he  began. 


6o  THE   DESTROYER 

"  What's  wrong  with  her  ?  " 

"  She's  agitated  about  something,  about  yoUy  I 
think." 

Sir  Saul  leant  against  a  tree,  poising  his  gun 
with  his  right  hand. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Saul,  you  do.  The  farce  has  gone  on 
too  long,  and  I  must  take  this  opportunity " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Sir  Saul  fiercely. 

"  What  do  ugly  rumors  mean  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ? "  asked  Sir  Saul 
again. 

"  I  mean,  then,"  replied  Euxine,  as  he  drew 
himself  up,  "  that  the  girl  Miriam  Dagon " 

Euxine  stopped,  because  he  trembled  more  than 
Sir  Saul.     He  had  chosen  an  awkward  moment. 

"Do  you  see  that  ?"  demanded  Sir  Saul,  hold- 
ing up  his  gun. 

"  Well !  "  said  Euxine,  attempting  to  smile, 
"  are  you  going  to  use  it  on  me  ?  " 

"I'll  use  it  on " 

"  No,  no,  Saul !  "  said  Euxine,  laying  his  hand 
on  his  brother-in-law's  shoulder.  "  I'm  surprised  ! 
We're  both  men  of  the  world,  you  know,  and  can 
arrange  these  things." 


ATTENDS    THE    UXBURVING    OE    A.\    OLD    SIN      6l 


Sir  Saul  said  he  knew  nothini^  about  these  ref- 
erences. Ikit  the  Prince  began  to  present  the 
thiui^  in  a  very  persuasive  way. 

"  Look  )'ou,  Saul  !  "  he  said,  "  we  are  both  old, 
and  Mathilde  is  old.  There  is  no  use  making  a 
disturbance  now.  These  sins  of  youth !  why, 
they're  just  the  frolics  of  young  blood  !  As  if  / 
don't  know  it  all  I  " 

"  What  the  devil  are  }-ou  going  on  about  then  ?  " 
asked  Sir  Saul.  "  I  suppose  you  had  your  own 
frolics." 

'•  Ah,  but  Mathilde  I "  rejoined  the  Prince, 
"and  the  countr\-side.  The  thing  is  getting  awk- 
ward now.  I  must  disabuse  her  mind,  and  how, 
how  to  do  it!  It  is  getting  hot  for  }'ou,  Saul. 
I've  been  silent  fur  \ears,  and  have  spoken  only 
because  I  sec  what  is  coming." 

Sir  Saul  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked  impatiently. 

Euxine  then  unfolded  his  scheme.  He  said 
the  way  was  clear.  He  pointed  to  the  increasing 
misery  of  Violet.  Had  Sir  Saul  watched  Violet  ? 
It  was  eating  her  life  away.  Now,  would  it  not 
be  better  that  he  and  Violet,  in  true  German 
fashion,  should  wed  and  retire  to  Hildesheim  ? 


62  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Dog  !  "  exclaimed  Sir  Saul,  at  last  roused  to 
his  duties.  "  Say  what  you  will,  defame  me  as  you 
please,  but  don't  suppose  I'll  give  my  daughter 
up  to  your  cursed  habits  !  " 

Prince  Euxine  was  amazed,  since  he  had  felt  so 
sure  of  his  man. 

"  Your  morals  are  appearing  somewhat  late, 
sir,"  he  said  with  an  icy  smile. 

"  Maybe  !  "  said  Sir  Saul,  "  yes,  maybe,  but  I'll 
turn  the  two  of  you  out.  She'll  get  her  divorce, 
get  it,  get  it,  and  you'll  go  with  her  !  " 

Euxine  was  surprised  indeed.  But  he  still  felt 
sure  of  his  man.  So  he  scrambled  on  Moll's 
back,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  exertion  intimated 
that  he  would  hastily  acquaint  his  sister  with 
everything. 

"  Go,  go ! "  cried  Sir  Saul,  laughing  a  loud 
sportsman's  laugh,  "  and  get  another  man's  horse, 
and  take  lessons  in  climbing  him." 

The  Prince  thought  to  dismount  again,  but  was 
too  agitated,  and  whipped  the  horse  to  go  on. 
Sir  Saul  fired  his  gun  in  the  air  behind  Moll's 
back,  and  the  horse,  taking  fright,  plunged  for- 
ward down  the  road  carrying  Euxine  at  a  terrific 
gallop. 


ATTENDS   THE   UNBURYING  OF  AN   OLD   SIN      63 

"  Ride  like  a  piston  !  "  cried  Sir  Saul ;  "  it's  the 
only  way.     What  ho  !  " 

He  saw  Euxine  struggling  in  the  air,  reeling  to 
the  left  with  his  right  stirrup  lost.  In  a  moment 
he  was  flung  from  the  saddle  and  fell  heavily, 
being  dragged  along  till  his  foot  extricated  itself 
from  the  left  stirrup.     Sir  Saul  ran  up. 

"Are  you  hurt?" 

But  Euxine  did  not  reply.  He  was  lying  in  a 
heap  against  a  tree,  with  his  face  on  the  ground. 
His  head  had  struck  the  tree,  and  he  was  insen- 
sible. Sir  Saul  looked  for  the  horse,  but  only 
heard  her  hoofs  clattering  through  the  woods. 
He  laid  down  his  gun,  deadly  pale,  and  ran  home 
to  bring  the  carriage. 


CHAPTER  V 

ATTENDS   THE   BURYING   OF   AN   OLD   SINNER. 

The  field-workers  came  running  from  all  points 
of  Sir  Saul's  estate,  some  of  them  carrying,  absent- 
mindedly,  hoes  and  shovels  on  their  shoulders, 
and  collected  in  a  group  behind  at  the  offices  to 
hear  the  latest  news  of  the  Prince's  condition. 
Old  Isaac  was  there,  and  Cubitt  and  Miriam,  and 
all  the  carters  and  reapers,  and  Sir  Saul's  shep- 
herd, for  Sir  Saul  had  a  thousand  sheep.  Dr. 
Bede  was  seen  driving  rapidly  up  the  great  linden 
avenue,  which  the  Prince  used  to  call  "  Unter 
den  Linden." 

"  There's  Bede ! "  said  the  group,  and  shud- 
dered. 

"  I  must  say,"  remarked  Isaac,  who,  in  spite  of 

his   age  and  bent  shoulders,  was  the  tallest  of 

them  all,  "  the  Prince  didn't  know  a  horse,  and  I 

expected  this.     When  I  gave  'im  Moll  four  hours 

ago  I  thought  him  nervous  and  excited  like." 

"Where's  Moll?"  asked  one. 
64 


ATTENDS  THE   BURYING  OF  AN  OLD   SINNER  65 

"  The  old  blasted  witch,"  said  Isaac,  "  I  wonder 
what  put  her  in  tantrums  to-day.  She  came 
scampering  down  to  the  turnips,  with  the  stirrups 
clappering  on  her  back,  and  the  reins  at  her  feet, 
puffing,  and  I  knew  somethin'  was  wrong,  I  could 
hardly  lay  hold  o'  *er.  She  must  have  fallen,  for 
she's  scratched." 

"  Ugh  !  "  exclaimed  Cubitt,  putting  his  hands 
in  his  pockets  and  looking  at  Miriam. 

"The  Prince  is  as  fine  a  gentleman  as  there  is," 
said  Isaac. 

"  He  is,"  said  the  shepherds  in  support. 

"  They  say  he  hasn't  money,"  continued  Isaac, 
rubbing  his  thumb  on  his  forefinger,  which  he 
always  did  when  he  wished  to  indicate  great 
wealth,  "  but  he  did  princely  by  me  with  what  he 
had." 

"  He  spoke  to  nte"  said  Miriam,  "half  an  hour 
ago,  so  kindly  like." 

"  And  he  used  to  pat  ;«^,"  said  a  milk  girl,  wish- 
ing to  announce  her  share  of  the  honors  that  were 
perhaps  gone  forever. 

While  Euxine  was  being  thus  eulogized,  his 
own  servant  came  out  with  a  dish  in  which  linen 
bandages  were  lying.     The  group  moved  after  him 


66  THE   DESTROYER 

to  the  pump,  where  he  let  the  water  run  till  it 
became  as  cold  as  possible.  Cubitt  managed  the 
handle  for  him,  and  kept  pumping,  pumping, 
while  every  one  asked  how  the  Prince  was,  and 
what  the  doctor  had  said. 

"  Head  badly  cut,"  said  the  man,  shaking  his 
own  head.  "  Bede  says  it's  concussion.  Lyin' 
still  as  a  stone,  and  hardly  breathing." 

One  of  the  servants  in  the  group,  who  was  a 
Catholic,  crossed  herself,  and  then  the  man  ran 
in  with  the  soaked  bandages. 

"  You  should  see  the  oozing  blood,"  he  said 
when  he  came  out  again  with  a  bowl  full  of  dis- 
colored water.  "  There's  a  bit  o'  his  brain  in  the 
bowl,  they  say." 

They  all  surrounded  the  bowl  and  saw  little 
greasy  globules  in  it. 

"  It's  like  a  bit  suet,"  said  one,  and  lifted  up 
her  hands. 

"Just  look!"  exclaimed  Isaac,  puzzled,  "it's 
like  a  bit  sheep's  sweetbread  !  " 

"  Can't  speak,  perhaps,  because  he's  lost  that 
bit ! "  said  Euxine's  man,  "  but  sometimes*  his 
hand  goes  up  to  his  brow  as  if  feeling  for  some- 
thing lost ! " 


ATTENDS  THE  BURYING  OF  AN  OLD   SINNER  67 

"  What  does  Bede  say  ?  "  they  asked. 

The  man  shook  his  head,  and  ran  in  again, 

"  It'll  be  a  funeral,"  said  Isaac,  "  and  me  saying 
*  How  d'ye  do,  Prince  ? '  this  afternoon,  only 
some  hours  back  !  " 

Dr.  Bede  had  hurriedly  told  Sir  Saul  that  his 
brother-in-law  would  be  dead  shortly.  It  was 
not  likely  that  he  would  return  to  consciousness. 
He  must  have  fallen  with  terrific  violence  against 
the  tree,  because  the  skull  was  badly  fractured. 
The  rumor  spread,  for  Euxine's  man  came  out 
with  each  item  of  news  till  the  group  at  the  back 
door  swayed  with  horror. 

"  And  that  dog's  barkin' ! "  said  one  of  the 
women. 

*'  It's  Bede's  dog  from  The  Gates  !  "  another 
replied. 

The  huge  dog  came  snuffing  round  the  group 
for  its  master.  But  the  doctor  was  still  busy  in- 
side. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  "  he  asked  Sir  Saul,  in 
the  anteroom. 

"  She  must  have  taken  fright  with  the  gun,  I 
shot  a  sparrow  hawk  before  Euxine  was  out  of 
sight,  and  then  she  tore  off,"  Sir  Saul  whispered. 


68  THE   DESTROYER 

"  I  never  knew  she  could  go  so  fast ;  and  he  could 
never  ride." 

Lady  Rimmon  was  too  broken  down  to  follow 
intelligently  the  doctor's  instructions,  and  she  let 
Violet  attend  the  bed. 

"  Euxy  !  "  cried  Lady  Rimmon  in  her  grief, 
"  oh,  speak ! " 

"Hush,  mother,"  said  Violet,  as  she  removed 
and  laid  again  the  cloths  on  the  shattered  brow. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  something  would  happen,  and  I'm 
alone  now  !      Where's  your  father  ?  " 

Dr.  Bede  returned  in  an  hour. 

"  Has  he  been  groaning?" 

"Yes,"  said  Violet. 

"Much?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Not  a  word  will  he  say.  O  doctor,  save  him, 
save  Euxy,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  with  her  face  in 
her  hands. 

"  He  may  return  to  a  sort  of  consciousness," 
said  the  doctor  to  Sir  Saul  as  he  drove  away  again. 

Another  hour  passed  and  the  Prince  groaned 
"  Mathilde,"  and  there  was  hope  that  he  might 
rally.  Lady  Rimmon  refused  to  leave  him,  and 
sat  up  all  night  while  Violet  and  Sir  Saul  took 


ATTENDS   THE   BURYING   OF  AN   OLD   SINNER   69 

some  sleep.  It  was  a  perfectly  dark  night  and 
the  trees  were  whispering  all  round  the  house. 

Lady  Rimmon  thought  she  saw  a  change. 

"  Yes,  Euxy,  I  am  here,"  said  Lady  Rimmon, 
shuddering.     "  Oh,  I  am  afraid  !  " 

"  O — oh — hands  of  pain  heavy  on  my  brow !  " 

She  eased  the  cloths,  while  her  tears  were  falling 
on  them,  and    she  could  hardly  see  what  she  did. 

"  Ma— thilde  !  " 

"  Yes,  Euxy,  I  am  here  beside  you." 

"  Wh — ere  ?  He — is  innocent,  and  where  am 
I  ? — Innocent." 

He  made  a  movement  to  sit  up  and  was  about 
to  tear  the  cloths  off  his  head. 

She  quieted  him  for  a  moment.  He  looked 
up  at  her  as  she  bent  over  him,  and  had  a 
moment's  lucid  interval.  He  seemed  to  be  feel- 
ing for  his  eyeglass  while  she  ran  to  call  the  others. 

"  I'll  be  forgiven  that  mensonge  for  her  sake!  " 
muttered  Euxine,  lying  back. 

*'  Oh,  I  am  widowed  !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Rim- 
mon, returning  too  late  with  Violet  and  Sir  Saul. 
"  Widowed  !  "  as  if  Euxine  had  been  to  her  all 
that  Sir  Saul  should  have  been. 

They  buried  him  according  to  the  Russian  rite 


70  THE   DESTROYER 

in  the  Episcopal  cemetery.  The  coffin,  which 
was  made  of  oak  from  one  of  Sir  Saul's  trees,  was 
carried  by  old  Isaac,  Cubitt,  Euxine's  man-servant, 
and  five  other  workmen  on  the  estate.  Sir  Saul, 
Lady  Rimmon,  and  Violet  followed  in  the  car- 
riage, with  the  horses  reined  in  to  a  funeral  pace. 
They  said  nothing  to  each  other,  and  Sir  Saul 
shuffled  his  knees  impatiently  from  side  to  side. 
Lady  Rimmon  was  sobbing  under  her  deep  veil, 
while  Violet  sat  impassive  beside  her.  The 
blinds  were  drawn  so  that  it  was  all  dark  within. 
They  heard  slow  tramp  of  sixteen  feet  ahead.  It 
was  almost  impossible  to  believe  the  reality.  Four 
days  ago  the  Prince  had  been  walking  above  the 
ground,  and  now  he  was  on  his  way  to  his  sealed 
sleep  beneath  it.  And  if  any  one  ever  laughed 
over  his  foibles  or  his  parsimony,  he  made  up  for 
it  now  by  misplaced  eulogy.  Even  Violet  had 
struck  "  old  dolt  "  out  of  her  journal  the  night 
he  died.  The  silence  was  so  oppressive  that  she 
ventured  to  break  it. 

"  Poor  uncle  never  rode  well,"  she  said. 

"  No,"  said  Sir  Saul. 

"  Oh,  I  told  him  so  often,"  said  Lady  Rimmon. 

"  Were  you  far  off,  father?" 


ATTENDS  THE  BURYING  OF  AN   OLD   SINNER  Jl 

"  No ;  I  think  it  must  have  been  the  gun." 

"  The  gun !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Rimmon,  lifting 
her  veil.  She  drew  up  one  of  the  carriage  blinds, 
and  looked  at  Sir  Saul  with  red  swollen  eyes. 

"  Yes,  the  report  perhaps  frightened  Moll." 

"OSaul!" 

"  He  mismanaged  her.  She  was  used  to  firing, 
and  it  shouldn't  have  set  her  off." 

"  O — oh!  "  sobbed  Lady  Rimmon,  in  sobs  that 
appeared  to  be  echoes  of  each  other. 

"  I  have  made  a  statement,"  said  Sir  Saul  ;  "  I 
thought  it  was  right  to  do  it.  Of  course  it  is 
only  my  conjecture." 

"  Here !  "  said  Violet,  astonished  at  her  father's 
statement. 

The  carriage  stopped.  Lady  Rimmon  was  un- 
able to  leave  it,  and  sat  covering  her  face  while 
they  buried  the  Prince. 

"  Euxy !  "  she  sobbed,  as  she  waited  for  them 
in  a  sort  of  weeping  dream.     "  Euxy  !  " 

The  servants  stood  in  a  crowd  round  the  open 
grave  while  the  coffin  was  being  lowered.  Then 
Cubitt  and  Isaac  began  to  fill  the  grave  up,  while 
everybody's  eyes  followed  the  motion  of  the 
shovels.      Sir  Saul  stood  at  the  head  with  his  hat 


72  THE   DESTROYER 

off,  and  Violet  at  the  foot  with  her  head  bent 
towards  the  ground. 

Old  Isaac  flung  the  last  spadeful  and  beat  the 
brown  earth  all  over. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  said  he,  as  he  let  a  tear  slip  ;  "  good- 
by,  Prince.  Ye  shook  hands  wi'  me  here  where 
prince  and  beggars  don't  shake  hands,  and  ye'll 
do  it  yonder  where,  they  say,  we'll  all  be  kings  !  " 

He  leant  on  his  spade,  and  looked  up  at  the  sky 
like  an  old  priest  of  the  soil. 

"Mir!"  he  called. 

Miriam,  who  was  dressed  in  a  black  frock,  and 
was  standing  beside  Mother  Dagon,  came  forward 
with  a  wreath  of  red  poppies  and  blue  corn-flowers 
of  her  own  twisting,  and  laid  it  at  the  foot,  while 
Violet  turned  hastily  back  to  the  carriage. 

The  weeks  followed  somberly  at  Rimmon 
House.  "  How  death,"  wrote  Violet,  **  makes 
all  this  activity  grotesque  !  Great  master  of  deaf 
mutes! " 

Lady  Rimmon  abandoned  herself  to  her  grief, 
and  Sir  Saul  was  now  seldom  out  of  doors.  The 
Prince's  mishap  caused  no  surprise,  since  every 
one  knew  his  want  of  skill  in  riding.  Really,  it 
was  only  his  sister  who  missed  him.     She  visited 


ATTENDS  THE  BURYING  OF  AN  OLD   SINNER  73 

his  grave  and  chose  his  monument.  She  used  to 
take  her  needlework  and  sit  in  the  cemetery 
beside  the  stone  while  the  stonecutter  was  carv- 
ing the  epitaph  which  she  had  composed. 

To  My 
Beloved  Brother 

prfnce  Ifvan  jfeo^or  lEuilnc 

Novgorod  (Russia),  and  Villa  Gotha  (Hildesheim) 
Ueber  alien  Gipfeln  ist  Ruh. 

"  Do  you  know  the  meaning  of  that  last  line  ?  " 
she  asked  the  stonecutter. 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  It  means  '  On  every  summit  there  is  peace," 
she  said,  and  tore  herself  away  weeping,  after  she 
gave  him  his  day's  fee. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  the  stonecutter,  pocketing 
the  money. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THINKS  THAT  LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY  WHERE 
NONE  WOULD   SEE  IT. 

Euxine's  name  was  seldom  out  of  Lady  Rim- 
mon's  lips,  and  Sir  Saul  began  to  feel  the  dead 
man's  ascendency  again.  He  seemed  still  to  be 
filling  the  house,  and  Sir  Saul  almost  expected  to 
meet  him  in  a  corridor,  or  to  see  him  in  an  easy 
chair.  It  was  difficult  to  control  himself  when 
his  wife  burst  into  tears  almost  at  every  meal 
over  Euxine's  empty  place.  If  Sir  Saul  ever 
asked  Violet  where  her  mother  had  gone,  the  in- 
variable reply  was,  that  she  had  taken  a  book  or 
her  needlework  to  the  cemetery.  Sometimes 
Violet  went  for  her  and  brought  her  back.  Even 
Sir  Saul,  however,  became  gentler  after  Euxine's 
death,  as  if  the  dead  man's  hand  was  constraining 
him  to  it.     But  he  was  secretly  irritated  when  he 

discovered  that  Euxine  seemed  as  great  a  reality 
74 


THINKS  THAT  LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      75 

as  ever,  and  that  he  was  almost  more  in  evidence 
when  dead  than  when  he  was  alive. 

"  He  was  so  good,"  said  Lady  Rimmon.  "  His 
last  words  before  he  went  out  for  that  ride  were 
about  you,  Violet.  He  was  always  thinking  of 
others.  He  said  he  had  '  a  splendid  proposal.' 
You  never  did  him  full  justice,  Saul." 

Sir  Saul  smiled  and  repeated  ironically  : 
"  Splendid  proposal !  " 

He  felt  tempted  to  disabuse  his  wife's  mind  by 
letting  Euxine  appear  in  an  evil  light,  and  so  oust 
the  dead  man  from  his  place  in  the  household. 
Quite  brutally,  therefore,  he  destroyed  his  wife's 
last  illusion. 

"  Do  you  know  what  it  was?  "  he  asked,  turn- 
ing first  to  Lady  Rimmon  and  then  to  Violet. 

"  No,"  said  Lady  Rimmon  eagerly.  "  I  had 
confided  Violet's  future  to  him.  Did  he  tell  you  ? 
He  was  keeping  it  as  a  surprise  for  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Sir  Saul.  "  It  would  have  been  a 
surprise !  The  splendid  proposal  was  himself. 
That  was  the  result  of  '  winnowing,  winnowing.'" 

"  Euxine  never  said  that !  "  exclaimed  Lady 
Rimmon. 

"  He  did,"  said  Sir  Saul. 


^6  THE   DESTROYER 

"  I  quite  believe  it,"  said  Violet. 

"Oh,  never!  It's  iniquitous  of  you  both  to 
say  it !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon,  wiping  her  eyes. 

"  I  told  him  I  never  would  permit  it,  Violet," 
said  Sir  Saul.  "  He  said  that  the  Prussian  law 
permitted  it,  and  that  his  property  at  Hildesheim, 
where  he  would  have  taken  you,  would  have  given 
him  the  right,  etc." 

"  Don't  believe  it,  Violet.  Oh,  it's  cruel  and 
shameful  of  you  to  speak  like  that,  and  he  spoke 
in  the  end  so  nobly  o{  you  !  " 

"  That  doesn't  change  anything,"  said  Sir  Saul. 

"  No,  I'm  afraid  it  doesn't,"  replied  Lady  Rim- 
mon, leaving  the  room  to  hide  her  bitter  double 
grief. 

"You  know,"  said  Sir  Saul  to  Violet,  "you  are 
free  to  marry  whom  you  like — provided,  of  course, 
he  has  position." 

"  I  know,"  said  Violet,  detecting,  with  some- 
thing like  scorn,  her  father's  conciliatory  tone. 
"  If  he  has  position !  A  Rimmon  would  never 
make  a  mesalliance  !  I  have  got  an  invitation 
from  the  Proudfoots,  and  I  am  going  soon." 

"  The  Proudfoots  ?  Does  that  mean  any- 
thing?" 


THINKS  THAT  LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      TJ 

"  No,"  said  Violet. 
"  Is  your  mother  going  with  you  ?  " 
"  I  don't  know.  I  hope  not,  but  she  was  asked." 
Those  were  all  the  sort  of  confidences  that 
Violet  ever  gave  her  father.  The  truth  was  she 
was  going  to  the  Proudfoots  because  she  could 
no  longer  bear  the  affront  of  her  position.  She 
pitied  her  mother  and  had  affection  for  her,  but 
she  wrote  in  her  journal  that  her  own  life  had  be- 
gun, and  would  have  to  be  lived  independently. 
The  days  that  passed  seemed  made  up  of  an  in- 
terminable delaying  which  promised  nothing. 
The  House  of  Rimmon  had  grown  dark  and  de- 
crepit. It  was  no  place  for  a  girl  who  felt  within 
her,  she  said,  the  stir  of  a  hundred  sympathies 
with  the  outer  world.  The  outer  world  could 
never  be  anything  like  this  !  When  she  heard  the 
revelation  of  Euxine's  mean,  ludicrous  project, 
she  longed  to  escape  from  an  atmosphere  where 
motives  so  shameful  were  at  work.  It  was  time 
to  see  things  and  choose  them  for  herself.  Sir 
Saul  took  care  to  let  her  know  that  he  would  have 
saved  her  from  that  obloquy.  She  thanked  him, 
but  that  was  all.  He  should  have  saved  her  from 
other  obloquy.     In  any  case  he  could  not  be  her 


78  THE   DESTROYER 

protector.  That  right  was  forfeited  long  ago. 
The  luxury  of  Rimmon  House  had  no  delight 
because  of  its  inner  shame.  And  the  vile  toler- 
ance of  that  accepted  scandal  made  her  soul  grow 
sick.  There  was  a  perpetual  waiting  for  a  decisive 
moment  which  never  came,  and  which  she  was 
too  proud  to  bring  on.  As  for  him,  he  was  living 
his  bucolic  life  undisturbed,  Euxine  was  done 
with,  and  the  past  was  a  fait  accompli.  Seldom 
did  Violet  permit  her  eyes  to  light  on  her  father, 
not  because  she  was  guilty,  but  he,  and  she  was 
too  ashamed.  "  Strange,"  she  wrote,  "  that  the 
iniquity  of  another  makes  me  so  nervous.  And 
mamma  is  slowly  dying  of  it."  She  asked  herself 
if  she  should  wait  on  for  her  mother's  sake,  and 
continue  to  suffer  with  her,  but  she  answered  : 
"  No,  I  will  make  things  only  worse.  Besides, 
mamma  may  live  with  me  if  she  likes,  and  we  shall 
have  done  with  him."  And  then  she  went  to  her 
glass  to  see  where  the  red  spot  was  burning  on 
her  cheek. 

Now  Lady  Rimmon  also  was  asking  herself  if 
she  should  continue  at  her  post,  and  she  an- 
swered :  "  Yes,"  for  her  daughter's  sake.  At  least 
she  would  wait  on  till  she  saw  Violet  in  safe  hus- 


THINKS  THAT  LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      79 

band's  hands.  Otherwise,  indeed,  she  felt  eager 
to  flee  from  the  house,  and  more  than  once  she 
had  secretly  packed  and  prepared  to  retire  to 
Hildesheim.  She  could  not  bring  herself  to  go 
through  the  shame  of  a  public  renunciation  of  her 
husband.  She  would  forgive  him  as  best  she 
could,  and  flee  silently  away,  and  her  only  regret 
would  be  to  leave  her  brother's  dust  in  foreign 
soil.  She  had  told  Cubitt  to  forget  what  she  had 
once  asked  him  to  do.  She  had  explained  pathet- 
ically that  it  was  her  nervousness  which  used  to 
make  her  afraid  lest  Sir  Saul  would  have  an  acci- 
dent in  the  woods.  Luckily,  Cubitt  was  dull  and 
honest,  and  would  have  remained  taciturn  even 
without  a  bribe,  which,  indeed,  he  refused,  won- 
dering what  it  all  meant,  and  considering  it  due  to 
her  ladyship's  hysteria  over  the  Prince's  loss.  So 
Lady  Rimmon  was  covering  it  all  up  and  suffering 
alone,  and  not  making  even  Violet  a  confidant 
any  more ;  waiting  only  till  Violet  was  safe  ;  then 
she  might  go  quietly  away  and  spend  her  last 
days  in  her  own  country.  But  she  had  said  to 
Euxine  that  she  was  living  for  Violet,  and  it  was 
still  true.  It  was  good  for  her  she  would  not 
bring  herself  to  believe  that  Euxine  had  wished 


80  THE   DESTROYER 

to  take  advantage  of  that  Prussian  law,  and  shock 
English  opinion.  That,  she  considered,  to  be  a 
wicked  invention  of  the  man  who,  on  his  own 
confession,  had  been  the  probable  cause  of  her 
brother's  death.  It  was  all  too  bitter  and  unac- 
countable. Like  Violet,  she  felt  the  immediate 
necessity  of  a  change  of  air,  if  nothing  else. 
Although  it  seemed  too  soon  after  Euxine's  death 
to  accept  an  invitation,  yet,  since  Violet  insisted 
on  going.  Lady  Rimmon,  whose  parental  instinct 
of  control  never  could  have  recognized  entire  in- 
dependence on  the  part  of  a  child,  decided  to  ac- 
company her.  Besides,  the  Proudfoots — Besser's 
cousins,  by  the  way — were  old  friends.  They 
had  often  been  at  Mulvey,  and  their  London 
house  in  Trebovir  Road  seemed  always  like  a 
home. 

"Are  you  going,  mother?" 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  will  come,  although  I'd  rather 
not." 

"  Oh  then,  don't,"  said  Violet. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  am  ready." 

Violet  was  disappointed.  She  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  go  alone.  Her  mother  was  old-fashioned, 
and  acted  like  a  drag.     She  even  objected  because 


THINKS   THAT   LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      8 1 

Violet  took  colored  dresses  with  her.     "  Oh,  but 

I'm  a  fright  in  black !     I  can't  go  about  like  a 

nun  ! "  said  Violet,  and   packed  gay  silks.     She 

looked  at  her  journal,  and  read  her  descriptions 

of  Besser.     "  How   silly    of   me ! "    she    thought. 

"  We  women  keep  clinging  so  long  round  things 

that  don't  even  need  us.     But   that  is  done  !  " 

And  she  scored  page  after  page.     Yet  she  stopped 

to  read  her  portraits  of  him.     "  His  head  is  one 

of  those  shining   heads  which    seem  to    diffuse 

light  all  about.     His  liturgy  can't  be  fixed.     It 

must    be    changing    every    year.     It    must    be 

poetry.    .    .    .    Not    a   word    from    him  !  "      She 

paused    at   the  entry.     "  He  will    not    remain   a 

priest!"     "Yes,  he  will,"  she  said,  and  struck  it 

out.     *'  His  features  are  extraordinarily  regular." 

She  left  that  in.     "  His  disinterestedness  is  plain, 

else  why  would  he  live   like  a  poor  monk  near 

Siena,  and  let  his  land  here  grow  waste.     I  know 

what  it  is.     I  believe  he  has  entered  the  Church 

to  get  an  insight  into  the  world,  and  he  will  come 

out    full    of   strange   knowledge.       Perhaps   not, 

though."     Her   eyes    fell    on    the    entry.     "  He 

must  be  twenty-five  now,"  and  she  shut  her  book. 

What  a  dull  life !     Would  something  interest- 
6 


82  THE  DESTROYER 

ing  never  happen  ?  From  the  beginning  she  had 
been  made  to  learn  what  she  should  have  learned 
— if  she  ever  learned  it  at  all — safely  late.  I  say, 
"  safely  late,"  because  the  emotions  really  wish 
to  be  deceived,  and  can  never  believe  that  they 
are  the  pain  that  they  are.  Yet,  was  Violet 
sorry  ?  Not  quite,  because  her  knowledge  of  the 
brutality  that  is  in  the  world  only  gave  her  a 
periodic  thoughtfulness  which,  although  it  inter- 
rupted her  gaiety,  really  vivified  it  and  made  it 
more  gay.  And,  of  course,  just  because  that 
habit  of  scrutiny  never  became  predominant  in 
her,  she  could  be  saved  by  it  no  more  than  any 
other  girl.  The  future  seemed  still  to  be  coming 
to  meet  her  in  roses  and  dances.  "  Oh  !  "  she 
said,  "  what  are  our  nerves  but  stringed  instru- 
ments to  improvise  a  pleasure  ?  " 

That  hurry  of  her  feeling,  long  delayed,  became 
her  real  danger.  Mulvey  had  turned  intolerable. 
She  would  have  been  the  last  to  deny  that  she 
was  dreaming  of  a  deliverer,  or  to  have  considered 
that  fact  vulgar  or  improper.  "  Will  my  hands 
be  idle  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Nature  has  given  me  a 
lap  to  nurse  things  on,  and  kind  hands  of  mater- 
nity.    O  whimpering  women,  the  world  is  full, 


THINKS  THAT   LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      83 

and  is  needing  us,  and  we  are  needing  it !  "  And 
wisely  she  decided  that  it  would  be  ludicrous  to 
dream  any  more  of  Besser.  "  Un  ami  perdu,  cest 
une  crisi\'  she  had  written  in  that  part  of  her 
book  which  she  kept  in  French.  But  he  was 
beyond  reach.  "And  still  I  have  my  sphere," 
she  thought.     "  I  wonder  who  is  waiting." 

Hubert  Proudfoot  was  waiting,  but  neither  he 
knew  it  nor  she.  Of  all  men,  Hubert !  Really, 
life  is  too  strange.  If  Lady  Rimmon  had  known 
that  in  a  few  weeks  Violet  would  be  wedded,  and 
that  there  would  be  no  undoing  it,  she  would 
have  lifted  her  hands  in  appeal  against  that 
fatality. 

"  D'you  know,  Edgar,"  said  Hubert  one  night 
to  Besser  in  their  rooms  at  Oxford,  "  did  you  ever 
pass  through  a  state  when  you  thought  there  was 
nothing  worth  having  except  beauty  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Besser ;  "  everybody  does." 

"  Well,  then  ?  " 

*'  Get  out  of  it." 

"Why,  Edgar?" 

"  Because  it'll  ruin  you. 

"  No,  Edgar,"  said  Hubert.  "  I'll  tell  you,  old 
chap.     /  reject  the  Devil,  not  because  he's  bad, 


84  THE   DESTROYER 

but  because  he's  ugly.  It  comes  to  the  same 
thing." 

"  Perhaps,"  replied  Besser,  knitting  fine  brows, 
"  but  I'm  deep  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  I  find 
there  a  living  belief  that  Lucifer,  who  was  once 
lovely,  turned  ugly  when  he  turned  bad.  Thus, 
virtue  will  keep  our  good  looks  !  " 

"Not  always  true!"  cried  Hubert,  who  ad- 
mired  Besser  but  never  shared  his  seriousness  ; 
"  you  used  to  say  that  religious  passion  desolates 
a  man's  body  just  like  any  vice.  Outwardly  it 
seems  to  have  almost  the  same  effect." 

"  Yes,  outwardly,"  said  Besser. 

"  Look  at  this  scarred  Saint  Francis  of  yours." 

"  Yes,  I  agree  ;  and  Christ's  face  could  never 
have  been  immobile,  as  the  portrait  has  it,  but 
ravaged  by  emotion.  Tintoretto  is  the  only  man 
who  saw  it." 

"Yes,  Edgar,  old  chap,  and  j/ou  are  being  rav- 
aged by  it." 

"  No,  no,  but  it  is  true  that  to  be  religious  you 
must  be  something  of  a  flagellant,  stinging  your- 
self to  sainthood." 

"But  to  come  back  to  beauty,  isn't  it  awful, 
Edgar,  that  it's  oftenest  given  to  mediocre  people 


THINKS  THAT   LOVE   DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      85 

who  become  frightfully  alluring  and  master  you. 
I've  seen  men  do  anything  just  for  a  pair  of  eyes 
and  a  mouth." 

"  Yes,"  said  Besser,  **  and  you  can't  get  five 
minutes'  talk  out  of  them,  although  you  could 
look  at  them  all  day." 

**  They  have  you  in  their  power,  and  you  think 
wise  people  stupid  beside  them." 

*'  Yes,"  said  Besser,  as  if  he  felt  the  problem  of 
that  unequal  distribution  of  beauty. 

"  O  God !  "  cried  Hubert,  "  our  fate's  in  the 
five  senses.     Here  I  go!  " 

Edgar  caught  him  before  he  went.  It  was  the 
last  night  they  were  to  be  together  in  Oxford,  and 
Hubert,  who  had  done  nothing  but  play  the  guitar, 
was  leaving  without  a  degree.  The  two  youths 
were  in  striking  contrast.  Hubert  was  slim  and 
fair,  with  moist  eyes  and  thin  lips.  He  was  not 
tall,  but  because  of  his  slimness  he  appeared  taller 
than  he  really  was.  His  hair  was  full,  covering 
his  brow,  so  that  some  people  used  to  take  him 
for  an  artist.  And,  indeed,  the  degree  of  his  sen- 
sibility, and  especially  his  over-refined  sense  of 
touch,  indicated  a  nervous  system  highly  mobile. 
When  he  spoke  excitedly  he  used  to  lift  his  hands 


86  THE  DESTROYER 

in  gestures  above  his  head.  But  Besser's  was  a 
body  better  knit.  He  was  dark,  with  deep,  vol- 
uminous eyes,  and  a  certain  sense  of  brooding 
about  his  brow.  Both  men  were  talking  about  a 
career,  but  Besser  was  as  yet  only  by  a  sort  of  in- 
stinct exploring  the  Middle  Ages,  whereas  Hubert 
would  spend  years  of  traveling  before  he  became 
fixed.  Hubert  had  never  been  serious,  but  he  had 
never  been  gross.  His  danger  lay  in  that  fine- 
strung  body,  most  delicate  mechanism.  It  was 
like  a  wavering  instrument  for  registering  infin- 
itesimal atmospheric  pressure  of  sensation.  And 
it  was  precisely  in  the  power  of  feeling,  and  of 
feeling  finely,  that  the  two  men  found  sympathy. 
But  there  was  an  obvious  difference.  For  when 
the  doctors  finally  got  hold  of  Hubert,  they  said 
that  his  centers  of  control  were  hardly  developed. 
As  yet  Besser's  predominant  feeling  was  that 
passion  of  piety  which  is  always  like  a  lovely 
anachronism  in  youth. 

"  Hubert,"  he  said,  "  years  of  traveling  and 
fun." 

"  Yes,  and  fun  !  " 

Besser  still  held  him  by  pressure  of  hand.  The 
religious  consciousness  knows  so  little  of  fun. 


THINKS   THAT   LOVE   DISCOVERS   BEAUTY      8/ 

"Good  luck  to  you,  old  chappie!"  cried 
Hubert. 

And,  as  he  turned  in,  Besser  thought  he  would 
never  forget  the  sharp  night  wind  of  spring  blow- 
ing through  the  open  door,  with  Hubert's  voice, 
and  shaking  the  new  leaves.  And  he  asked  him- 
self why  so  many  sinners  are  lovable. 

So  Hubert  went,  and  Edgar  stayed  with  his 
missals  and  "  the  folly  of  the  Cross."  Hubert 
took  with  him  that  smattering  of  his  fate  which 
he  had  recounted  to  his  friend.  It  was  almost 
ghastly  to  see  him  fighting  against  the  five 
senses.  The  issue  of  that  struggle  had  so  long  ago 
been  determined,  apart  even  from  any  choice,  by 
Hubert.  "You  know,"  he  wrote  to  Besser,  "  the 
state  I'm  in."  He  meant  that  he  had  a  single 
worship,  and  that  it  was  his  chief  end  to  glorify 
beauty  and  enjoy  it  forever.  "  I  find,"  he  wrote 
asain,  "  that  the  fundamental  sense  is  the  sense  of 
touch.  Even  plants  have  it.  Is  any  deep  friend- 
ship possible  without  it?  Everywhere  it  is  the 
universal  language.  The  heat  here  is  exciting, 
under  this  sun  of  Asia,  and  the  alluring  East," 

"  Hubert,"  wrote  Besser,  "  your  body  is  only 
your  soul's  sentry-box  and   point    of   vigilance. 


88  THE   DESTROYER 

I've  left  Oxford.     I'm  tonsured.     You  know  what 
that  means." 

Hubert  was  being  slowly  desolated  by  that 
secret  tyranny.  Hundreds  of  beings  appear  to 
be  born  for  no  other  purpose.  Only  a  dull  on- 
looker mistakes  their  tragic  appearance.  I  have 
seen  them  in  the  exciting  streets.  At  twenty-six 
Hubert's  unquiet  eyes,  moist  and  glistening,  were 
already  full  of  the  mocks  and  hazards  of  their 
search.  For  this  tyranny  of  beauty  colors  the 
eyes  as  with  rainbows  of  sorrow  and  pain.  It 
came  to  him  as  a  sort  of  challenge.  It  never 
came  as  an  appeaser.  He  was  at  the  point  which, 
later,  Besser  was  himself  to  traverse,  conquering  ; 
the  moment  at  which  man  becomes  supremely 
tragic ;  the  moment  when  his  esthetic  conscious- 
ness and  his  moral  consciousness  are  at  war.  Besser 
telegraphed  him  to  come  home,  but  no  answers 
came.  "  He's  gone  under,"  wrote  Besser  to  a 
friend.  Meantime  Hubert  went  north  and  south, 
east  and  west,  changing  climates  and  moralities, 
allowing  a  hundred  civilizations  to  pass  through 
him — not  as  through  a  sieve.  His  observation 
became  quickened,  "  There  are  as  many  different 
sorts  of  species  of  souls  as  of  peoples  in  the  world," 


THINKS  THAT   LOVE  DISCOVERS   BEAUTY      89 

he  wrote  his  mother,  "  and  they  would  all  need 
special  evangels — so  different  that  I  would  almost 
begin  to  believe  in  the  dogma  of  special  creation 
of  souls,  if  not  of  plants  and  animals."  His  mother 
— the  tall  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  as  she  used  to  be  called 
— waited  for  his  return,  but  he  went  on  dating  his 
letters  from  all  points  of  the  compass.  His  money, 
three  thousand  a  year,  was  in  his  own  control.  He 
was  drawn  hither  and  thither  as  by  some  unseen 
magnet.  He  was  living  in  the  epidemics  of  sen- 
sation. Many  a  night  his  mother  started  from 
her  chair,  letting  her  work  fall,  and  ran  to  the 
door  when  she  heard  a  cab  stop  at  Trebovir  Road. 
"  Ah !  he  will  come,"  she  said,  and  turned  back 
with  a  tear.  Hubert  was  yet  too  busy  with 
the  rose-gardens  of  pleasure  and  their  delusion. 
Besser  would  have  marveled  at  that  swift,  easy 
wreck.  Rumors  came  that  he  was  living  some- 
where in  the  gorgeous  East,  surrounded  by  Bac- 
chanals, tipsy  with  beauty,  like  St.  Francis.  A 
messenger  was  sent  in  search,  but  when  he  arrived 
at  Damascus,  he  heard  that  Hubert  was  either 
among  the  Bedouin  Arabs  or  in  Corsica.  Wher- 
ever he  arrived  he  heard  that  Hubert  had  just 
left.     There  was  no  possibility  of  hemming  him 


90  THE   DESTROYER 

in  by  a  stoppage  of  supplies.  His  fortune  was 
independent  of  his  mother's  control.  So  he  lived 
through  that  cycle  of  his  vanity.  And  if  the 
prodigal  ever  returned,  it  was  doubtful  whether 
Christian  society  would  meet  him  a  great  way  off, 
after  the  manner  prescribed  by  its  Founder.  But, 
happily,  he  had  a  mother.  Mysterious  paradox, 
that  to  make  God's  reputation  for  mercy,  sin  must 
touch  heinous  limits ! 

Suddenly  came  a  telegram  that  he  was  return- 
ing ill.  Three  years  had  passed.  Not  wishing 
to  give  his  mother  a  great  shock  he  sent  home  a 
portrait  of  himself.  "  Was  it  he  ? "  she  asked 
affrighted.  He  seemed  sallow,  yet  pale,  and  his 
eyes  were  like  wandering  lights.  To  make  the 
contrast  more  strange,  there  was  a  smile  on  him. 
Sometimes  he  looked  like  Franz  Hal's  "  Homme 
Joyeux."  So  he  was  coming  to  stern  England 
with  the  scents  of  that  palace  of  sweet  sin  upon 
him,  and  feeling  like  an  alien  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  returning.  And  the  smile  was  a  soft  smile  of 
delusion  of  the  soul  after  the  short  prides  of  life. 
She  looked  at  the  portrait — three  years  had  done 
it — and  she  rose  at  night  to  look  at  it  again.  She 
kept  wondering  if  it  were  a  mistake,  and  wished 


THINKS   THAT   LOVE   DISCOVERS   BEAUTY      9 1 

to  destroy  it.  It  was  the  face  of  a  fugitive.  He 
was  to  be  home  in  a  month,  and  she  hid  his  por- 
trait, not  showing  it  to  her  friends.  "Yes,  he 
comes,"  she  said.  She  often  started  to  walk  ner- 
vously about  the  room.  "  I  should  have  gone  to 
him  !  "  she  cried.  "  He  was  always  trembling  with 
uncontrolled  emotion,  my  child  !  "  She  counted 
interminable  days  and  slow  serpent  hours.  She 
went  to  the  dining-room  and  took  down  a  portrait 
that  hung  at  the  left  window.  It  was  the  portrait, 
of  Hubert's  grandfather  when  he  was  about  thirty^ 
and  she  compared  it  with  Hubert's.  She  saw 
marks  of  that  same  scourge,  and  the  atavism 
of  it,  and  the  same  smile  as  of  infinite  de- 
lusion. 

The  night  on  which  he  was  expected  she  waited 
till  twelve,  but  he  did  not  come.  She  fell  asleep 
on  her  chair,  with  her  eyelids  wet.  Her  hair  was 
white  and  smooth,  and  her  features  relaxed  with 
advancing  age.  She  must  have  been  about  sixty- 
four,  but  she  was  worn  beyond  her  years,  and  her 
aquiline  features  exaggerated  her  decay.  She 
limped  as  the  result  of  a  carriage  accident  which 
took  place,  ironically,  on  the  tenth  anniversary  of 
her  marriage,  when  she  was  driving  in  Hyde  Park 


92  THE   DESTROYER 

to  celebrate  it  with  her  husband.  He  was  long 
dead,  and  Hubert  had  been  their  only  child,  SJie 
had  been  the  daughter  of  a  bishop,  and  had  mar- 
ried Proudfoot  late.  Proudfoot  had  had  the 
reputation  of  a  sensitive  recluse.  He  had  trans- 
lated French  and  Italian  books,  and  had  lived  on 
his  ample  patrimony.  Hubert  had  inherited  his 
father's  delicate  organism,  and  pale  eyes  and  hair. 
He  had  been  too  devotedly  brought  up.  On  this 
very  night  Mrs.  Proudfoot  had  gone  to  his  room 
and  warmed  his  night-shirt  as  she  did  long  ago, 
taking  it  out  of  a  drawer  where  she  was  keeping 
it  for  his  first  sleep  on  his  return.  She  put  night- 
lights  on  a  table,  and  added  coals,  having  sent 
the  servants  to  bed.  She  came  back  and  waited, 
and  waited,  and  at  length  fell  asleep.  She  started 
with  a  fright.  But  it  was  a  dream  merely.  She 
thought  he  was  gripping  her  hand.  She  went 
to  the  door,  however,  in  case  a  cab  might  have 
stopped,  but  she  returned  and  sat  down  again. 
At  last  a  cab  drove  up.  Breathless,  she  limped  to 
the  door  and  down  the  steps. 

"  Hubert !  " 

"  Yes,  ma — ma." 

She  kissed  him    before  he    left  the    cab,  and 


THINKS  THAT  LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      93 

thought  his  lips  cold.  The  luggage  was  brought 
in,  and  he  entered  and  sat  down  opposite  her, 
saying  nothing,  but  looking  round  the  room. 

"  It's  all  so  strange,"  he  said. 

His  eyes  were  pale  but  shining,  and  she  noticed 
the  recurrence  of  old  habits,  as,  for  instance,  the 
throwing  of  the  hands  above  the  head.  He  imme- 
diately desolated  her  with  his  confession,  while 
she  clasped  him  in  sobs.  "  No  more,  dear  boy  ! " 
she  said.     "  Nothing  more  !  " 

"  I  never  could  hide  anything,"  he  said.  "  I — I 
want  to  see  Dr.  Bede.  Do  you  remember  him  at 
Mulvey?  Is  he  there?  It's  all  over  with  me,  I 
believe.  There  seem  to  be  two  beings  in  me, 
and  the  one  hates  the  other." 

She  put  him  to  bed,  while  her  heart  was  wrung. 
But  she,  too,  slept  that  night,  although  her  eye- 
lids were  wet,  slept  on  the  belief  that  there  is 
more  joy  in  Heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth 
than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons. 

Dr.  Bede  ordered  a  year's  perfect  quiet  for  him 
in  his  mother's  keeping.  He  did  not  tell  them 
that  Hubert  was  showing  signs  of  incipient  para- 
lytic dementia,  but  he  knew  that  that  was  true. 
Luckily,  in  science,  truth  is  a  matter  of  demon- 


94  THE   DESTROYER 

stration,  and  can  be  easily  chased  to  its  hiding 
corners.  Dr.  Bede  shook  his  head.  It  was  an- 
other proof  of  his  theory  of  the  Destroyer.  But 
a  year's  repose  might  restore  that  wavering  equi- 
librium. Hubert  gave  himself  up,  and  his  mother 
nursed  him  back  to  sanity.  The  months  passed 
in  the  quietest  way,  and  he  seemed  to  be  getting 
better,  so  that  Dr.  Bede  marveled  at  his  progress. 
He  drove  with  his  mother  every  day  in  Hyde 
Park,  and  gave  his  night  to  books.  A  slight 
excitement  came  with  the  spring,  and  he  began  to 
lose  sleep  again.  But  his  flesh  was  less  flaccid 
and  pale.  Like  all  lonely  men  he  began  to  long 
for  dialogue  and  companionship. 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  Besser,"  he  said  to  his 
mother.  "  When  was  he  last  at  Mulvey  ?  I've 
something  to  say  to  him  about  Lucifer." 

"  He's  been  away  for  years,"  said  Mrs.  Proud- 
foot. 

"  I  wish  we  had  somebody,  mother." 

"  We'll  ask  the  Rimmons,"  she  said.  "  They 
will  be  seeking  a  change  after  Prince  Euxine's 
death." 

"I've  forgotten  Violet.  What's  she  like?" 
asked  Hubert. 


THINKS    THAT    LOVE    DISCOVERS    HEAUTN'      95 

"  We'll  have  thcni  up,"  !=;aid  his  mother. 
''We'll  give  a  ball,  Hubert." 

So  it  was  settled,  and  the  Rimmons  came. 
Hubert  was  surprised  at  Violet's  beaut}',  and  at 
first  talked  shyly  to  her.  He  seemed  the  gen- 
tlest of  beings.  The  year's  repose  had  brought 
back  a  great  deal  of  the  charm  of  his  face  and  its 
melancholy.  They  were  much  thrown  in  each 
other's  company,  but  Lady  Rimmon  looked  anx- 
iously on. 

"  We  shall  not  stay  long,  Violet,"  she  said  after 
the  third  day. 

"  Why  ?"  asked  Violet;  "they  expect  us  to 
stay  at  least  a  fortnight.  There's  going  to  be  a 
dance." 

"  Mrs.  Proudfoot  has  been  telling  me  that  her 
son  was  once  very  wild — quite  awful !  it  seems — 
away  in  the  East.  I'm  sure  he  doesn't  look  like 
it." 

"  No,  he  doesn't,"  said  Violet. 

The  truth  was,  she  and  Hubert  were  becoming 
more  and  more  interested  in  each  other. 

"  Have  you  seen  Besser  lately  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  not  for  four  years.  He's  at 
the  Monastery  of  Monte  Oliveto,  near  Siena.     Do 


96  THE   DESTROYER 

you  know  that  lovely  view  of  Siena  and  its 
towers  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes!  "  he  said.  "  Look  here,  Miss  Violet, 
let's  put  off  the  dance.  What  interest  have  we  in 
other  people?     Do  you  want  it?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  smiled. 

"  Edgar's  a  dreamer,"  said  Hubert.  "  Do  you 
like  dreamers?  " 

"  It  depends  on  what  they  dream." 

They  went  often  out  together  while  their 
mothers  spent  half  the  day  alone. 

"  You  know,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  "  the  doctor 
says  Hubert's  never  to  marry." 

Lady  Rimmon  felt  relieved.  She  repeated  it 
to  Violet. 

"  Really  ?  "  said  Violet  abruptly.  "  There's  not 
going  to  be  a  dance." 

"  Oh,  we  can  go,  then,"  said  Lady  Rimmon. 

"  No,  mother,  that  would  be  rude,"  said  Violet. 

She  liked  his  paleness.  "  I  hate  red-faced  men  !  " 
she  wrote  in  her  journal.  And  the  delicacy  of 
Hubert's  features  indicated  delicate  feeling.  She 
never  thought  he  was  "  dissolutely  pale."  He 
was  drawn  to  her  by  her  strength,  and  she 
to  him  by  his  weakness,  and  the  atmosphere  of 


THINKS   THAT   LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY     97 

sympathy  was  pressing  around  them.  He  said 
little  because  he  was  suffering  much.  She  was 
bewitched  by  the  pale  form,  with  shining  eyes, 
and  the  smile  of  infinite  delusion.  He  seemed  to 
have  lived  through  his  soul's  eclipse,  and  to  have 
passed  out,  half  luminous  again,  with  strange 
lights. 

*'  No,  no,"  he  said,  when  he  was  alone,  "  all 
that  is  past." 

A  single  year  of  purification  had  not  been 
enough.  A  century  would  not  be,  he  said. 
There  was  never  so  complete  a  renunciation  of 
iniquity  by  any  one.  Jesus,  for  instance,  would 
have  accepted  him  straight  away ;  would  have  said 
that  he  was  "  born  again,"  and  that  his  past  was 
now  dead  and  meaningless,  of  no  moral  or  physi- 
cal importance  any  more.  But  the  world  secretly 
objects  to  this  doctrine  of  Jesus,  and  Science  dis- 
putes it.  Yet  a  criminal  may  be  on  the  point  of 
renouncing  his  crime  just  as  you  lay  your  hand 
upon  him.  Here,  too,  the  irony  was  that  the  re- 
nunciation was  simultaneous  with  the  handcuffs 
and  subtle  chains  of  disease.  Happily,  there  is  a 
religion  that  believes  that  we  are  never  stained 
through  and  through,  and  that  iniquity  takes  pos- 
7 


98  THE   DESTROYER 

session  of  the  periphery',  not  the  center  of  our 
souls.  But  he  felt  the  piquancy  of  modern  Chris- 
tian feeling  which,  although  rising  out  of  the  fine 
dogma  of  forgiveness,  and  the  perfect  washing 
of  sin,  never  forgives.  He  even  acquiesced  in  it. 
Really,  if  Jesus  instead  of  having  lived  a  tragic 
romance,  had  written  one,  and  had  brought  into  it 
that  incident  of  the  woman  taken  in  sin,  together 
with  the  fineness  of  His  pardon.  He  would  have 
been  called  indecent. 

But  the  moments  were  getting  big  with  feeling. 
"  I  never  thought,"  wrote  Violet  in  her  journal, 
"  that  Love's  face  had  this  look  of  crisis  !  " 

"  No,"  he  said  to  her  calmly,  "  I  am  bound  to 
live  like  an  anchorite.  I'm  only  amass  of  sensi- 
tive vegetation.  Nature  has  pleased  to  make  it 
so !  I  am  holding  on  to  the  last  perishing  king- 
doms." 

"  Our  souls,"  she  said,  "  are  like  asbestos — un- 
burnable,  unseared.  Even  the  old  doctrine  of 
hell  believes  it  !  "  and  she  smiled. 

It  was  the  fine  illusion  to  which  her  love  was 
helping  her,  and  at  that  moment  she  believed  in 
the  permanence  of  the  emotions  she  had  once 
denied. 


THINKS   THAT   LOVE  DISCOVERS   BEAUTY      99 

"  Violet ! "  he  said,  as  if  he  wished  her  to 
persuade  him  it  were  true. 

He  felt  it  glorious  to  break  the  glass  and  toilet 
of  his  vanity,  and  become  again  like  a  little  child. 

She  turned  all  his  negatives  to  positives,  every 
"  no  "  to  a  "yes  "  ;  opening  shut  doors  of  the  ir- 
revocable, for  a  moment,  into  the  open  kingdoms 
of  a  woman's  perfect  trust. 

"  Violet,"  urged  Lady  Rimmon, "  let  us  away  ! " 

"  Will  some  wretch  of  a  De  Goncourt  say  that 
I  love  the  faisandage  des  choses  ?  "  she  wrote  in 
her  journal.  "  If  so,  let  love  and  charity  be  cursed 
for  mockeries.  I  love  him,  and  he  is  new- 
born." 

They  were  to  be  caught,  then,  in  that  hurry 
and  rate  of  their  fatality.  Love,  indeed,  so  se- 
curely blind  !  Love  always  in  a  hurry  !  Mrs. 
Proudfoot  felt  secretly  glad,  in  spite  of  the  doctor's 
warning  that  Hubert  could  bear  no  excitement, 
and,  least  of  all,  the  excitement  of  love.  Only 
Lady  Rimmon  felt  harassed,  and  wondered  what 
Euxine  would  have  said.  She  thought  of  tele- 
graphing to  Sir  Saul,  but  delayed. 

Violet  once  overheard  him  speaking  aloud. 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  Edgar,"  he  was  saying. 


lOO  THE  DESTROYER 

She  stopped  and  listened,  since  it  was  love's 
own  eavesdropping. 

*'  So  many  mouths  in  the  world  and  so  few  to 
talk  softly,  so  many  hands  and  none " 

"  Mine,  mine  !  "  she  whispered  to  herself. 

She  thought  she  heard  the  compression  of  his 
body,  that  reduction  of  bulk  when  a  spasm 
of  feeling  descends.  He  came  out,  and  she 
started. 

"  I've  been  eavesdropping,"  she  said,  "  forgive 
me!" 

He  looked  wildly  at  her,  appealingly. 

"  I've  nobody  to  save  me  but  you  !  "  he  cried. 

"  And  I  am  here  !  "  she  said. 

So  that  for  once  love  was  really  mingled  with 
feelings  of  redemption.  Yet,  when  he  kissed  her, 
his  lips  felt  like  autumn  dust. 

"  Mother,"  cried  Violet,  "  we're  betrothed  !  " 
and  kissed  the  astonished  mothers. 

Lady  Rimmon  sat  unable  to  speak,  but  muttered 
to  herself :  "  This  is  the  result  of  winnowing, 
winnowing,  as  poor  Euxine  used  to  say  !  " 

"  Violet,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  leaning  on  her 
cane,  "  my  son " 

But  Hubert  entered,  and  she  stopped. 


THINKS   THAT   LOVE   DISCOVERS   BEAUTY      lOI 

"  My  dear  child  !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon  resign- 
edly as  he  came  forward. 

And  then  it  was  the  moment  for  die  Thrdne  in 
lacketiden  Auge.  Hubert  had  entered  solemnly, 
but  he  was  now  smiling,  almost  rejuvenated,  and 
with  his  eyes  shining.  He  sat  down  and  said 
nothing,  but  nodded  to  Violet,  slightly  throwing 
back  his  head.  Of  course  Sir  Saul  telegraphed 
congratulations. 

But  next  day  a  shadow  fell  on  their  already 
somewhat  somber  delight.  Dr.  Bede  came  in  a 
great  hurry  to  Trebovir  Road.  He  had  heard  at 
Mulvey  the  rumor  of  Violet's  engagement,  and 
he  came  to  prevent  the  wedding.  He  attacked 
first  Mrs.  Proudfoot  and  then  Lady  Rimmon, 
who  implored  Mrs.  Proudfoot  to  listen.  He  had 
been  at  Sir  Saul,  but  Sir  Saul  had  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"  It  ought  not  to  be,"  said  Dr.  Bede  emphati- 
cally ;  "  I  dare  not  allow  it !  The  excitement  will 
kill  him.  He  is  not  fit  to  stand  it,  however  things 
may  look  to  the  contrary." 

"  I  told  you,  I  told  you  !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon, 
running  to  Violet,  while  Mrs.  Proudfoot  hid  the 
fact  of  the  doctor's  arrival  from  Hubert. 


102  THE  DESTROYER 

"The  excitement  of  breaking  it  off  will  kill 
him  !  "  implored  Mrs.  Proudfoot. 

But  the  doctor  shook  his  head  angrily.  Hubert 
had  got  to  know  of  his  arrival,  but  refused  to 
come  in. 

"  What's  he  wishing?"  he  asked,  as  he  felt  a 
cold  shiver  pass  over  him. 

Violet  was  deaf  to  her  mother's  entreaties. 

"  Tell  him  I  won't  see  him,"  she  said.  "  Talk 
hygiene! " 

So  Dr.  Bede  returned  from  his  thankless  ex- 
pedition. 

"We  are  going  to  be  married,"  says  Violet  in 
her  book,  "  almost  as  expeditiously  as  holy  George 
Herbert."  And  then  she  quotes  "  George  Her- 
bert's Life  " — " '  This  haste  might  in  others  be 
thought  a  love  frenzy.'  " 

Strangely  enough,  on  the  very  day  they 
all  arrived  at  Rimmon  House,  there  was  a 
rumor  in  Mulvey  that  Edgar  Besser  was  re- 
turning. And,  indeed,  Mulvey  House  was  being 
opened,  and  the  gardeners  were  cutting  the 
lawn.  The  rumor  was  immediately  supple- 
mented by  another  that  he  had  given  up  the 
priesthood. 


THINKS  THAT   LOVE  DISCOVERS  BEAUTY     103 

"  I  said  he  would,"  said  Violet,  laughing  ;  "  how 
strange ! " 

"  I'd  give  anything  to  see  him,"  said  Hubert. 
"  Given  up  the  church  ?     I  wonder  why  !  " 

Lady  Rimmon  could  only  do  a  mother's  part, 
and  help  on  a  consummation  in  which  she  had  no 
trust.  Preparations  were  made  for  a  quiet  wed- 
ding, and,  indeed,  Mrs.  Proudfoot  was  the  single 
guest.  Sir  Saul's  peasants,  with  old  Isaac  at  their 
head,  hastily  prepared  their  gifts,  and  "  Miss 
Violet's  going  away  ! "  was  on  every  lip.  Sir 
Saul  welcomed  Hubert  as  he  would  have  welcomed 
any  other  one,  but  he  despaired  of  making  him 
a  sportsman.  He  never  went  out  shooting,  but 
only  walked  in  the  grounds  with  Violet.  The 
workers  were  pleased  with  his  gentle  air,  but  they 
thought  he  looked  as  fragile  as  a  ghost.  Once 
when  she  saw  Miriam  at  the  borders  of  the  wood 
Violet  turned  quickly  back  with  him. 

At  last  the  day  came,  and  the  peasants  gathered 
on  the  lawn  after  the  ceremony.  Hubert  had 
been  excited  all  day.  The  peasants  came  for- 
ward in  turn  with  their  gifts,  Cubitt  stalking  up 
with  a  porcelain  jug,  and  old  Isaac  with  a  leather 
cigar-case  for  the  newcomer.     Miriam,  dressed  in 


I04  THE   DESTROYER 

a  blue  gown,  with  lace  at  the  neck  and  wrists, 
presented  a  little  screen  of  sewed  work,  which 
was  her  own  and  Mother  Dagon's  gift.  When 
she  came  forward  Violet  appeared  to  be  agitated, 
and  Hubert  turned  with  a  strange  look.  His 
sharp  eyes  had  caught  the  resemblance  between 
the  girls.  He  seized  Miriam  and  Violet  simul- 
taneously, calling  out  "Violet — two  Violets!" 
to  the  confusion  of  every  one.  All  the  peasants 
began  to  move,  some  tittering,  while  old  Isaac 
asked  what  was  wrong,  and  Mother  Dagon  left 
her  place  to  go  home.  Violet  had  turned  white, 
and  likewise  Sir  Saul,  and  Lady  Rimmon  went 
hastily  into  the  house  of  the  veranda. 

"  Hubert !  "  cried  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  and  released 
Miriam,  "  you're  joking  !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said  as  they  went  in,  while  the 
peasants  left  the  lawn  to  go  to  the  dinner  that 
had  been  prepared  for  them,  talking  eagerly  to 
each  other. 

Hubert  laughed,  and  when  he  asked  who  Miriam 
was,  Violet  said  she  didn't  know,  and  took  him  to 
see  their  presents.  Sir  Saul  chatted  with  Mrs. 
Proudfoot,  while  Lady  Rimmon  was  preparing  to 
leave   forever.     As  the    day    waned — it   seemed 


THINKS  THAT  LOVE  DISCOVERS   BEAUTY      10$ 

never  going  to  wane — Hubert  became  more  ex- 
cited, and  repeated  *'  Two  Violets !  "  till  Violet 
trembled. 

"  Hubert,"  she  said,  "  let's  go  for  a  drive." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  and  they  went. 

"  Violets  grow,  don't  they  ?  "  he  said  curiously 
to  her,  till  she  became  afraid. 

As  they  passed  The  Gates  he  cried  out  : 
"  What  huge  house  is  that  ?  Oh,  yes,  I  remem- 
ber." 

"  It's  a  prison,"  said  Violet. 

"  Coachman,  drive  quick !"  cried  Hubert,  seiz- 
ing Violet's  hand.     **  It's  a  monstrous  place!  " 

Violet  felt  dizzy. 

"  Mother,"  she  implored  when  they  got  back, 
*'  don't  go  !  I  will  need  you  !  Don't  go,  he  is 
ill !  " 

"  O  child,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  "  our  cup  is 
full !  " 

Mrs.  Proudfoot  tried  to  quieten  her  son,  but 
he  talked  for  two  hours  till  dinner,  reciting  old 
poetry  and  odd  verses. 

It  was  suddenly  decided  that  they  should  not 
leave  for  their  honeymoon  till  next  day,  and 
Hubert  acquiesced.     Hardly  a  word  was  spoken 


I06  THE  DESTROYER 

at  dinner,  though  Violet,  whose  imagination  was 
always  full  of  imagery,  seemed  to  hear  the  hurry- 
ing wings  of  her  calamity.  Sir  Saul  called  for 
the  health  of  the  young  pair. 

"  Yes,  old  boy ! "  exclaimed  Hubert  with  a 
curious  leer.  He  took  up  his  guitar,  and  looked 
exactly  like  the  "  Homme  Joyeux,"  and  his 
mother  noticed  the  look  on  him  with  which  he 
had  come  home.  He  sang  unintelligible  songs  of 
Damascus  and  the  East,  passing  his  eyes  from  face 
to  face  round  the  table,  till  at  length  he  stood  up 
and  kept  time  with  his  foot,  and  then  vanished 
with  Violet.  Sir  Saul,  Lady  Rimmon,  with  her 
head  bowed,  and  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  all  sat  speech- 
less, turning  their  wine-glasses  mechanically. 
Then  they  said  '*  Good-night  !  "  in  whispers,  and 
the  lights  were  extinguished  in  the  old  House  of 
Rimmon. 

Later  there  were  cries  of  "  What  a  night,  O 
God ! "  through  the  old  House  of  Rimmon, 
"  What  a  night  of  nuptials  !  "  as  all  its  inmates 
rose,  and  the  servants  ran  with  lights  and  gestures 
through  the  corridors  to  the  eastern  gable.  Some 
of  the  servants  crossed  themselves  and  passed 
gestures  to  each  other,  while  Sir  Saul  burst  a  door. 


THINKS  THAT   LOVE   DISCOVERS  BEAUTY      107 

"  Oh,  oh  !  "  rose,  intermittent  with  the  clashing 
of  doors,  in  the  dead  middle  of  the  night  and  that 
skirmish,  and  a  low  "  Ha,  ha !  "  as  of  some  crea- 
ture fastened  with  chains,  .  .  . 

"  Love  !  " — wrote  Violet  next  day,  so  that  we 
seem  to  feel  the  very  soreness  of  her  emphasis — 
"  Love  /  .  .  .  They  took  him  raving  to  The 
Gates.  ...  I  wished  something  to  nurse,  and  I 
have  it.  .  .  ." 

And  from  that  day  her  journal  was  to  become 
Love's  solemn  Breviary  and  Book  of  Hours. 

END  OF  BOOK  I. 


BOOK  II 

THE  UNEASY  LOVER 


BOOK  II 


CHAPTER  I 

DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS  IN 
THE  HISTORY  OF  FRANCE,  AND  OF  TWO  ENG- 
LISHMEN 

Prahl  thought  his  master  would  sleep  soundly 
that  night,  and  he  looked  into  the  room  at  half- 
past  ten  to  listen  to  his  breathing.  The  bed  was 
closed  up  by  muslin  curtains  to  protect  the 
sleeper  from  the  gnats.  Edgar  Besser  was  breath- 
ing lightly,  and  was  evidently  in  his  first  sleep. 
He  had  given  up  the  priesthood  three  months 
ago,  and  was  traveling  in  Sicily,  expecting  to 
return  to  England  at  the  end  of  summer.  A 
curtain  served  for  a  door  because  of  the  heat, 
and  was  generally  left  drawn  to  let  as  much  air 
through  as  possible.     It  was  already  too  late  for 


112  THE   DESTROYER 

Sicily,  and  even  on  the  heights  of  Taormina  the 
June  sun  was  becoming  intolerable. 

"  It's  too  hot  here,  Prahl,"  said  Besser ;  "  it's 
exciting,  like  the  human  warmth  in  a  crowd." 

"  I'd  bear  it  all  but  for  the  devilish  gnats,  sir," 
said  Prahl.  "  Begging  your  pardon,  I  like  what 
you  call  the  human  warmth  in  crowds." 

"  Yes,"  said  Besser,  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
throwing  away  good  things  on  his  servant,  "  it 
would  be  well  if  history  could  invent  a  sort  of 
historical  thermometer  to  measure  for  us  the 
differences  of  heat  in  all  the  great  crowds  that 
have  ever  gathered  round  the  crisis  of  the  world's 
affairs — the  crowd  round  the  Cross  of  Christ ;  the 
Greek  crowd  waiting  for  the  news  from  Marathon  ; 
the  French  crowd  round  the  Bastile,  and  I  don't 
know  how  many  others.  You  can't  write  history 
without  thermometers  ! " 

"  Eh,  master?"  said  Prahl,  "and  the  lips  and 
the  eyes  in  the  crowd  !  " 

Prahl  was  searching  for  the  invisible  gnats  in 
his  master's  bed,  and  slapping  the  walls  with  a 
towel. 

"  Oosh !  .  .  .  oosh !  .  .  .  hist !  " 

"  I'll  make  smoke,  master,  and  choke  'em  out." 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    II3 

"  No,  leave  me,"  said  Besser  in  a  had  humor. 
"  To-morrow  at  six." 

Prahl  came  back  in  half  an  hour,  and  threw  a 
stone  lightly  on  the  mat  at  the  door  ;  he  advanced 
a  step  on  tiptoe  and  threw  another  on  the  mat 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  And  when  the  sleeper 
gave  no  sign  of  waking,  he  threw  another  stone 
more  loudly  on  the  mat  at  the  bedside.  The 
room  was  bright  with  the  moon,  which  made  the 
muslin  curtains  shine  like  silver.  Edgar  Besser 
was  sleeping  quietly.  His  watch  and  pocket- 
book  were  lying  on  a  small  table.  Prahl  took  up 
the  pocketbook,  but  found  nothing  in  it.  Edgar 
Besser  slept  with  his  money  under  his  pillow, 
not  out  of  fear  of  Prahl,  but  of  the  Sicilian  serv- 
ants. The  doors  and  curtains  were  open  all  day 
and  half  the  night,  and  any  thief  might  be  hidden 
in  the  corners  of  the  house.  Prahl  opened  the 
muslin  curtains.  His  master  was  lying  on  his 
back  in  a  deep  sleep.  Edgar  Besser  was  younger 
than  Prahl,  yet  they  were  of  the  same  build — • 
which  was  convenient  for  Prahl  when  he  felt  in- 
clined to  wear  his  master's  clothes.  Prahl's 
features  had  smoothness  and  regularity,  and  his 
eyes    a    certain    brilliance.     But     even    a    poor 


114  THE  DESTROYER 

observer  might  have  discovered  the  notable 
difference,  only  to  be  expected,  between  the 
physiognomy  of  master  and  of  servant.  Besser's 
extremely  mobile  lips,  and  the  haste  in  his  eyes, 
had  been  remarked  long  ago  by  Hubert  at 
Oxford. 

"  Master's  poetic,"  said  Prahl. 

Edgar  Besser  was  twenty-five,  and  Prahl,  who 
was  one  year  older,  considered  himself  twice 
superior  in  knowledge  of  the  world. 

"  Master's  a  youngling,"  he  said. 

He  took  a  feather  which  he  held  in  his  left 
hand,  while  he  drew  back  the  curtain  with  his 
right.  He  tickled  the  youngling's  neck,  and  then 
let  the  light  curtain  fall  hastily  into  its  place. 
He  waited  at  the  edge  of  the  bed,  and  heard  the 
youngling  turn  with  a  slight  murmur.  He  opened 
the  curtain  again.  Besser  was  now  lying  on  his 
side  with  his  face  to  the  wall.  A  roll  of  notes, 
tied  round  by  a  string,  was  lying  half  way  down 
the  bed.  Prahl  lifted  it,  and  took  out  some  Italian 
notes.  He  put  the  roll  in  its  place  again,  and 
let  the  curtain  fall.  Edgar  never  counted  his 
money.  "  Poets  never  do,"  said  Prahl.  He  ad- 
mired his  master's  tastes  in  clothes. 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    II5 

"  Master's  extravagant,"  he  said. 

He  took  up  Besser's  clothes,  and  longed  to  put 
them  on.  They  were  white,  and  resembled  silk 
rather  than  linen,  and  were  finely  sewn. 

"  Master's  waist's  the  same  as  mine,"  said  Prahl. 
"  Gott !  such  socks,  too — and  the  ties  !  " 

He  took  away  the  whole  suit,  and  sat  an  hour 
in  it  before  his  own  glass. 

It  was  necessary,  indeed,  to  wear  clothes  of 
such  a  light  texture  in  "  sun-trodden "  Sicily. 
And  yet,  lovers  of  sun-clad  Sicily  would  not  have 
said  the  sun  was  becoming  intolerable.  They 
would  have  followed  the  goatherds  into  the  cool 
places  where  the  trees  threw  clots  of  shadow  on 
the  ground,  and  listened  half  the  day  to  the  pan 
pipes ;  or  gone  down  to  the  sea,  and  sat  in  a  sap- 
phire pool ;  or  even,  out  of  mere  love  of  sun-heat, 
would  have  sat  for  hours  half-naked  in  the  sun. 
Prahl  and  his  master  had  been  doing  nothing  else 
for  days,  and  were  already  sun-scorched.  On  the 
gradual  abandonment  of  one  superfluous  garment 
after  another,  Besser  detected  the  allurement  of 
Paganism  and  its  excitement.  (And,  indeed, 
half  our  ethics  may  be  tailor-made.)  Not  once 
or  twice  in  a  day  they  went  down  to  bathe,  and 


Il6  THE   DESTROYER 

seemed  to  come  back  hotter  than  they  went. 
Instead  of  walking  up  the  long  serpentine  road, 
or  taking  the  green  path  through  the  bushes  zig- 
zag to  the  ruined  Greek  theater,  they  went 
leisurely  on  horses,  half  asleep  in  their  saddles, 
with  their  feet  loose  in  the  stirrups.  It  was 
pleasant  to  meet  a  Sicilian  maid,  with  an  orange- 
basket  or  lemon-basket  on  her  head,  and  pay  her 
double,  whether  she  asked  it  or  not,  on  every 
lemon  and  orange.  The  vines  were  ripening. 
Even  Etna,  far  off,  with  thick  snow  cloak,  seemed 
to  tell,  in  spite  of  himself,  by  the  diaphanous  heat- 
shimmer  he  was  sending  up,  how  much  fire  still 
lies  in  the  earth's  old  heart. 

"  Let  us  get  to  England,  Prahl,"  said  Besser  in 
the  morning;  "it's  not  so  hot  there." 

"And  yet,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "  I  feel  hot 
everywhere,  and  when  I  go  home  I  know  the 
whole  atmosphere  will  be  as  if  charged  with  elec- 
tricity. Are  you  looking  forward  to  Mulvey, 
Prahl?" 

"Yes,  master,  and  I'll  follow  you  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth." 

"  You  will  find  Mulvey  strange,  and  may  not 
like  it,  but  I  must  spend  the  summer  there.     I 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    II 

should  have  been  there  long  ago.  It  is  my  own 
place,  and  I  promised  my  mother  to  take  care  of 
it  after  her,  but  I've  neglected  it  for  years." 

"  Why  will  it  be  strange,  sir  ?   said  Prahl. 

"  Because  I've  heard  strange  rumors  about  sotne 
of  my  friends  there." 

Prahl  asked  no  more  questions ;  he  began  to 
pack  up.  He  thought  Edgar  Besser  must  be  ex- 
tremely rich,  and  was  eager  to  see  Mulvey  House. 
He  had  knocked  about  a  good  deal,  and  it  seemed 
the  height  of  luck  to  have  attracted  Besser's 
attention.  It  was  at  the  Hotel  des  Palmes  in 
Palermo,  where  Besser  had  been  staying  all  May. 
Prahl  was  a  waiter.  Besser  had  need  of  servants 
for  Mulvey  House,  since  the  old  lot  had  been 
dismissed  when  the  house  had  been  shut  up.  He 
was  returning  to  the  world,  and  it  became  nec- 
essary to  carry  on  his  estate  in  a  proper  style. 
Prahl  seemed  to  give  promise  of  being  a  good 
butler.  But,  indeed,  he  had  been  everything  in 
turn.  His  father  was  a  German,  his  mother  an 
Englishwoman,  and  himself,  as  he  said,  a  cosmo- 
politan. His  education  had  been  good,  and  he 
talked  English  with  surprising  correctness,  but  he 
had  found  a  German  home  too  dull,  and  had  run 


Il8  THE  DESTROYER 

off  at  seventeen.  His  parents  could  have  appren- 
ticed him  to  a  decent  profession,  but  he  preferred 
to  go  through  a  variety  of  adventures.  He  had 
done  all  sorts  of  things.  Quick-witted,  and  of 
good  manner,  he  could  adapt  himself  to  whomso- 
ever he  met,  and  his  gentlemanly  air  won  him 
good  places.  But  his  restlessness  drove  him 
about,  and  he  suffered  reverses  because  of  his 
vanity  and  caprice,  and  sometimes  his  dishonesty. 
But  this  never  prevented  him,  from  getting  good 
berths.  He  had  been  down  a  mine,  and  on  a 
fishing  boat,  and  he  once  managed  a  mill.  He 
had  a  smattering  of  most  European  languages, 
and  passed  from  one  country  to  another.  If  he 
saved  money  he  was  sure  to  spend  it  recklessly 
in  the  end,  and  was  forced  to  accept  any  work 
that  turned  up.  Besser  saw  he  had  wits,  and  was 
something  more  than  a  server  of  dishes.  He 
spoke  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  become 
a  private  servant. 

"  Fm  going  to  my  property,"  said  Besser,  "  and 
I  need  a  man  like  you." 

Prahl  accepted  at  once. 

A  few  days,  indeed,  were  sufficient  to  let  him 
sec  what  a  fine  fortune  had  tumbled  at  his  feet. 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    II9 

To  be  the  private  servant  of  a  young  dreamer,  as 
Besser  seemed  to  be,  rich  and  generous,  was  a 
chance  worth  having. 

"  I  was  once  a  priest  you  know,  Prahl." 
"  A  priest,  sir  !  "  exclaimed  Prahl,  astonished. 
"  Yes ;  some  months  ago.     Look  !  " 
And  Besser  bent  his  head  to  show  the  mark  of 
the  tonsure.     The  circle,  once  bald,  was  now  grown 
over  and  covered  by  the  thickening  dark  hair. 
"  I  gave  it  up  for  various  reasons." 
Prahl  smiled,  but  checked  himself.     He  watched 
the  ex-priest,  and  thought  he  looked  like  a  boy 
set  free  from  school. 

"  I'll  always  remain  loyal  to  the  Church,"  Bes- 
ser had  said  to  the  Abate  di  Negri,  at  Monte 
Oliveto,  "  because  it  expresses  our  emotional 
needs,  but  I  can't  find  how  all  the  mass  of  the 
world's  contradictions  fit  into  its  formulee.  They 
are  condemned  but  not  explained,  or  else  are 
crushed  in  unscientifically." 

The  old  abbot,  smiling,  laid  his  hand  upon  him 

and   said  :    "  We    are    all    children    of    the   same 

Father  "  {noi  siamo,  tutti,  figli,  dello  stesso  Padre  /). 

Edgar  had  been  at  Monte  Oliveto  three  years. 

Although  he  had  been  instinctively  moving  since 


I20  THE   DESTROYER 

early  youth  towards  the  ritual  of  the  Roman 
Church,  he  had  arrived  a  Protestant  at  Monte 
Oliveto,  and  had  remained  a  Protestant  for 
eighteen  months.  It  was  because  faith  for  him 
was  so  charged  with  imagination  that  the  change 
would  be  inevitable.  Protestantism  knew  too 
much,  was  coldly  logical,  and  seemed  to  walk 
round  God  in  full  comprehension.  It  fatigues 
the  imagination  just  because  it  gives  it  no  work 
to  do.  Edgar  had  come,  weary  of  the  intellectual 
battle,  and  had  sought  repose.  His  first  intention 
was  merely  to  learn  Italian,  and  he  had  gained 
permission  from  Siena  to  remain  at  the  monastery 
for  purposes  of  study.  Many  a  day  he  sat  in  the 
pillared  library,  while  the  sun  poured  through  the 
windows,  and  he  leant  over  Dante  and  Leopardi. 
He  left  the  great  Virgil  untouched — perhaps,  be- 
cause he  found  both  already  so  full  of  him. 
Every  forenoon,  before  the  great  bell  rang  for 
dinner,  he  walked  round  and  round  the  old  clois- 
ters, where  the  walls  are  covered  with  work  of 
Signorelli  and  of  Bazzi.  Below  the  pavement  the 
monks  are  sleeping,  and,  alas !  the  Abate  di 
Negri  was  there  only  lately  laid.  Often  Besser 
stood  before  the  great  flagstone  on  which  is  in- 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    121 

scribed  "  Monachorum  Sepulchrtim"  near  the  wall 
where  Bazzi's  herculean  Christ  seems  more  than 
fit  to  bear  the  Cross.  When  the  boys  came  out 
to  draw  water  from  the  great  central  well,  Besser 
used  to  pull  the  chain  up  for  them.  Ah  !  Giorni 
dolci !  He  seemed  at  last  to  have  found  peace 
in  the  vast  empty  monastery,  which  was  still  echo- 
ing with  the  footsteps  of  old  beliefs.  There  were 
only  two  monks,  both  old,  the  abbot  and  Dom 
Guiseppe,  and,  at  least,  the  abbot  was  unforget- 
table. So,  indeed,  was  Dom  Guiseppe,  with  his 
simple  peasant  heart  and  faith.  The  night  he 
arrived,  Besser  was  set  at  the  head  of  the  supper- 
table  in  the  novitiates'  refectory,  now  used  instead 
of  the  great  refectory,  which  did  service  when 
there  were  more  than  two  hundred  monks.  The 
Abate  playfully  said  that  he  was  to  be  their  new 
abbot. 

Giorni  dolcissimi !  From  his  three  western 
windows  he  saw  Siena  far  away  and  its  towers, 
and  the  rough-and-tumble  Tuscan  landscape  lit 
by  the  Tuscan  sun.  In  his  first  letter  to  Hubert 
he  wrote :  "  What  a  place  for  stars  !  "  He  was 
present  when  the  olives  were  being  crushed,  and 
he  took  part  in  managing  the  great  horse  mill, 


122  THE   DESTROYER 

and  his  wages  were  bottles  of  "  virgin  "  oil.  He 
helped,  too,  in  making  the  wine,  and  stood  at  the 
wine  vats,  foaming  with  purple  drippings  of 
grapes,  and  used  to  dream  that  he  was  seeing 
Dionysus — beautiful  wine  god  !  Often,  too,  he 
went  with  the  goat-herd  to  gather  in  the  goats  at 
Ave  Maria,  but,  indeed,  they  seemed  to  know 
the  bell,  and  came,  undriven,  tinkling  home. 
Every  morning  Abate  di  Negri  knocked  at  his 
door  to  say  "  Buon  giorno  !  "  and  to  give  him,  as 
long  as  it  lasted,  a  sprig  of  jasmine.  Soon  the 
place  became  for  him  a  medieval  home,  and  he  wept 
tears  of  joy  and  thanked  God  that  he  had  found 
once  more  the  very  knees  of  prayer.  Almost  un- 
interruptedly— unless  when  it  was  snowing  in 
January — he  rode  to  Buon  Convento,  or  through 
Chiusuri  to  San  Giovanni  d'Asso,  and  invariably 
the  abbot  met  him  on  the  way  home.  He  used 
to  dismount  and  give  the  horse  to  a  groom,  and 
walk  back  with  the  abbot.  The  abbot — dear 
saint ! — his  face  used  to  shine  as  with  St.  Francis* 
sweet  "  Folly  of  the  Cross,"  and  his  head,  too,  as 
with  an  aureole.  Often  he  came  at  night  to 
Besser's  room,  and  sat  at  the  well-heaped  fire, 
bringing  a  bunch  of  raisins  and  figs  of  his  own 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    1 23 

drying,  and  a  newspaper  from  Genoa,  and  a 
"  Book  of  Hours."  Besser  listened  to  his  wisdom 
which  was  always  tickled  with  humor,  and  used 
to  marvel  at  his  knowledge  of  English  history, 
and  especially  of  the  period  of  Henry  VHI,  and 
Elizabeth.  Long  were  their  talks,  but  never 
once  did  Abate  di  Negri  attempt  to  apostatize, 
and  when  Besser  used  to  call  him  ''padre  mio,'' 
he  refused  it  with  a  fine  gesture.  He  meant 
what  he  said,  when  he  declared  so  often  :  "  Siamo 
figli  dello  stesso  Padre  !  " 

The  spirit  of  the  place,  its  medieval  glow,  was 
fast  penetrating  Besser's  highly  imaginative  and 
receptive  nature.  He  used  to  ring  the  bell  for 
Matins,  and  sometimes  helped  to  clean  the  church. 
From  the  beginning  he  had  kept  their  Saints' 
Days  out  of  courtesy,  and  he  never  ate  beef  on 
Fridays.  The  first  Friday  the  abbot  had  got  a 
chicken  and  a  cutlet  prepared  for  him,  while  the 
others  partook  of  polenta  and  fish.  But  Besser, 
with  a  fine  delicacy,  identified  himself  with  them, 
and  sent  the  beef  to  a  beggar.  When  visitors 
came,  he  used  to  show  them  over  the  building, 
lingering  long  at  the  wonderful  doors  of  the 
library.     He  began  to  feel  the  stir  of  old  emo- 


124  THE   DESTROYER 

tions  now  embodied  and  intensified  in  an  actual 
life.  He  used  to  lie  awake  in  his  little  iron  bed, 
hearing  the  owls  hoot  under  the  cypresses  in  the 
vast  garden.  He  lay  awake,  and  when  he  did 
sleep  and  awoke  again,  why  were  his  eyelids  wet? 
He  kept  a  book  of  "Stray  Notes,"  and  under  the 
date  December  19th,  he  had  written :  "  Mere 
midnight  in  my  brain  !  Read  Leopardi,  which 
made  things  worse  ! 

"  '  So  che  natura  e  sorda 
Che  miserar  non  sa.  .  .  .' " 

That  moment  of  pained  impulse  drove  him  to 
surrender.  Next  day  he  astonished  the  abbot  by 
asking  to  be  received  into  the  Church.  The 
abbot  refused,  and  told  him  to  wait. 

"  Dear  Edgar,"  said  the  abbot,  "  I  assure  you 
that  my  best  friends  are  your  countrymen,  and 
they  are  all  Protestants." 

That  indeed  was  true.  And  if  the  abbot  had 
been  orthodox,  he  never  would  have  quoted,  as 
he  so  often  did,  the  sermons  of  Savonarola,  al- 
ways adding,  "  Poveretto  !  "  But  Edgar  insisted. 
It  was  the  impatience  of  a  warm  nature.  He 
wished  to  become  a  priest.     The  imaginative  and 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    12$ 

emotional  moment  had  come,  and  he  could  not 
pass  it,  brief  though  it  was  going  to  be.  He 
pleaded  for  entrance,  and  the  abbot  at  length 
yielded,  but  warned  him  that  the  change  had 
come  only  because  Besser  was  generous  and  im- 
pressionable, open  to  the  fineness  of  beliefs  op- 
posed to  his  own. 

"  Yet,  let  it  be  !  "  said  the  old  man.  "  If  you 
pass  out  of  it  you  will  be  richer.  /  am  richer 
by  remaining  in  it.  O  Edgar,  in  such  an  age  we 
cannot  afford  to  throw  away  even  the  splinters  and 
dust  of  that  poetry  {qiiella  Bella  poesid)." 

A  special  Dispensation  was  received  from  Rome. 
Abate  di  Negri  had  met  Pius  XI.  and  was  his 
friend.  Edgar  was  found  learned  in  the  theology 
of  the  Church,  and  was  received  without  training 
— doubtless  partly  because  of  his  wealth.  He 
spent  his  money  freely  among  the  poor.  At  first 
it  was  proposed  that  he  should  take  up  his  place 
at  Orvieto,  where  there  was  a  vacancy,  but  he 
refused  to  leave  Abate  di  Negri.  His  independ- 
ence and  large  fortune,  doubtless,  helped  to  make 
the  circumstances  special  for  him,  and  he  was  left 
free.  Soon  "  il prete  inglese  "  became  as  familiar 
in  the  countryside  as  the  abbot  himself  or  Dom 


126  THE   DESTROYER 

Guiseppe.  The  next  eighteen  months  passed  in 
the  fulfilment  of  simple  duties.  Besser  was  now 
twenty-five,  and  he  was  going  to  pay  the  price  of 
a  nature  developed  as  much  on  the  side  of  the  in- 
tellect as  on  the  side  of  the  imagination.  Such  a 
nature  can  never  find  salvation  in  a  single  mood, 
and  it  was  with  dread  that  he  began  to  suspect 
that  his  medieval  dream  might  be  coming  to  an 
end.  What  was  really  to  be  wondered  at,  was 
that  a  young  man  so  rich,  and  with  opportunities 
of  worldly  distinction  so  great,  had  ever  embraced 
such  a  life  at  all.  But  he  now  felt  the  need  of 
change,  and  he  seemed  to  hear  the  noise  of  the 
world  sounding  far  off  like  a  vast  symphony. 
Ci  chiama  il  mare  !  "  Am  I  wise  ?  Have  I  been 
wise  ?  "  he  was  asking  himself  with  a  sickening 
heart.  He  could  not  help  being  modern.  He 
had  forgotten  it  only  a  moment  at  the  insurrec- 
tion of  that  deep  feeling  of  the  charged  mystery 
of  life.  He  had  obeyed  the  impulse,  and  wisely, 
because  at  the  moment  he  could  have  done  nothing 
— ought  to  have  done  nothing  but  stammer  in 
that  broken  speech  of  emotion.  Yet — yet — 
Nemesis  was  already  perhaps  lurking.  He  was  a 
being  of  complex  needs,  with  a  rapid  intellect  and 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    12/ 

a  desire  for  the  fights  in  the  world.  Could  he 
wait  ?  He  looked  at  himself.  He  was  tonsured  ; 
he  wore  a  medieval  garb.  It  was  the  strangest 
metamorphosis.  It  seemed  to  be  the  very  wizard- 
ry of  the  invisible  that  had  transformed  him  into 
a  believing  being  in  the  old  robes  of  faith.  And 
when  he  suspected  the  moment  to  be  approach- 
ing at  which  he  must  put  them  off,  he  shrank 
back  ashamed  and  afraid.  He  had  explored  the 
Middle  Ages  as  a  poet,  not  as  a  believer ;  yet  his 
face  had  now  the  mark  and  color  of  the  great  Age 
of  Faith,  when  the  Church  seemed  to  set  its  seal 
on  every  lip,  and  subdued  the  very  physiognomy 
of  the  world  to  the  image  of  Another  Kingdom. 
A  look  of  sorrow  and  awe  hung  upon  Besser's 
face  till  it  took  on  the  pigment  of  his  discomfiture. 
Was  stern  England  not  calling  him  ?  Were  the 
poor  of  Mulvey,  who  had  been  his  mother's  care 
for  thirty  years,  not  left  to  him  by  her  as  a  sacred 
charge  ?  And  he  had  deserted  them  for  the  glow 
of  this  medieval  dream.  The  Tuscan  sun,  the 
Tuscan  landscape,  Siena  and  its  towers,  the  life 
of  monks,  vine-dressing,  olive-gathering,  the 
saunter  at  Ave  Maria  under  the  cypresses,  whose 
tops  were  like  pinnacled  gold,  the  very  health  of 


128  THE   DESTROYER 

the  place  and  its  deep  peace,  was  it  not  all  cush- 
ioned luxury  in  disguise,  even  though  his  floor 
had  no  carpet,  and  his  bed  no  quilt  ? 

"  Ah,  I  told  you  !  "  said  Abate  di  Negri  gently. 
"  Chi  va  piano  va  sano  e  lontano  !  " 

"No,  no,"  said  Besser  abashed,  "but  it's — but 
it's "  and  he  stammered  his  distress. 

He  could  never  go  piano. 

"  Leii  troppo  bello per  unprete  !  "  said  the  abbot. 
"  You're  too  good-looking  to  be  a  priest." 

"  Padre  Abate  !  "  exclaimed  Besser.  "  It's  my 
England  that  I've  deserted.  I've  allowed  the 
Church  to  rob  me  of  my  fatherland.  I  threw  it 
away  for  a  bunch  of  sentiments !  " 

"  I  love  your  countrymen,"  said  the  Abate,  with 
his  quickening  smile.  "  Sotio  tanto  amabili !  " 
and  he  caught  Besser's  monk's  sleeve. 

Really,  Besser  did  not  know  that  he  was  being 
driven  from  his  refuge  by  unsatisfied  love.  Yet, 
once  he  had  said  to  himself  aghast :  "  My  soul 
is  sitting  in  sedition ! "  For  he  had  come 
to  the  point  of  the  great  interruption  in  a 
man's  life  when  every  other  interest  is  sus- 
pended, and  there  are  natures  to  whom  a  sense 
of  possible  coming  guilt  is  like  a  sense  of  guilt 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    1 29 

already  come.  Nay,  nay,  how  could  he  know 
love  as  a  hunter  ? 

He  must  put  off  those  robes  of  faith,  and 
quickly.  He  went  away  suddenly,  hugging  his 
crucifix,  while  he  was  telling  the  beads  of  his 
emotion,  if  not  of  his  beliefs.  It  was  wonderful, 
indeed,  that  he  was  to  become  just  doubly  strong 
after  he  had  thrown  aside  that  vesture.  "  I  will 
denude  myself  of  it ! "  he  cried.  "  I  will  take 
away  every  pillar  and  prop  of  official  morality 
that  might  hold  me  up,  as  it  holds  so  many  men 
who  would  otherwise  fall.  I  will  stand  absolutely 
alone  with  the  bare  bodkin  of  intellect,  and  fight 
this  mystery  !  Religious  passion  really  excites 
the  body.  Think  of  the  flagellants  !  And  I  have 
known  men  who  became,  as  it  were,  slaves  before 
God,  till  he  whipped  them  to  sainthood.  But  a 
man  can  take  refuge  in  his  brain  alone,  and  in  the 
intellectual  scorn  of  ribaldry.  ...  I  will  think 
of  Hubert !  A  man  needs  nothing  except  crush- 
ing force  of  will  to  let  him  see  that  passion  is  a 
farce.  I,  too,  have  heard  that  wildness  within 
me,  and  it  sounded  the  way  an  insolent  knock 
sounds  at  your  door !  " 

Yet  it  was  with  reluctance  that  he  was  admit- 
9 


130  THE   DESTROYER 

ting  to  himself  that  he  was  beset  by  the  arrow  of 
love  that  flieth  by  night,  and  he  felt  a  secret  in- 
dignation. Nothing  but  a  sure  target,  he !  He 
knew  that  the  moral  struggle  of  the  modern  man 
is  keener  than  the  world  has  ever  known  it,  just 
because  he  contains  all  its  accumulated  contra- 
dictions, the  very  core  and  central  skirmish  of 
that  battle.  Heirs  of  all  the  ages — yes,  and  of 
their  vice  as  well !  To  England,  then,  where  the 
battle  lay  in  a  form  known  to  himself,  and  waged 
of  weapons  that  were  native  to  him.  Thus  his 
destiny  was  quickening  within  him.  He  never 
juggled  with  himself.  "  I  am  meant  for  the 
world,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  an  impulsive 
fool ! "  But  it  was  long  before  the  final  admis- 
sion came  :  "  I  must  marry  !  "  Surely,  however, 
just  because  his  romance  had  been  so  long  in- 
visible— as  true  romance  always  is — it  was  thus 
deeper  and  more  richly  colored. 

Would  he  ever  forget  the  farewell?  He  left 
Monte  Oliveto  robed  like  a  priest. 

"  And  yes,  yes  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  dedcr  padre,  I 
shall  remain  one,  though  not  formally,"  while 
the  Abate  smiled,  sure  of  the  uninterrupted  inner 
goodness  of  his  young  apostate. 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    I31 

"  Ah,  child  !  "  he  said,  "  what  if,  after  all,  our 
beliefs  are  only  the  caricature  of  God  ?  " 

The  great  oxen  came  round  to  the  main  door, 
yoked  to  a  cart  shaped  in  the  antique  pattern 
that  is  to  be  seen  in  Greek  sculpture.  Besser's 
luggage  was  put  upon  it,  and  a  crowd  of  swarthy 
peasants,  many  of  them  weeping,  stood  round. 
The  night  before,  the  abbot  had  given  him  an 
Italian  Bible,  and  the  thing  was  so  strangely  done 
that  unless  Besser  had  been  sure  of  the  old  man's 
delicacy,  he  might  have  suspected  irony.  For  it 
was  a  Protestant  Bible,  and  on  the  flyleaf  there 
was  inscribed,  in  the  abbot's  fine  and  almost  in- 
visible handwriting  :— 

"  M.O.M. 
"  Affettuoso  ricordo  dell  ^ Abate  di  Negri  all  ^egregio  e  studiosis- 
simo,  SiGR.  Edgar  Besser." 

What  may  be  translated  thus  : — 

"  Affectionate  souvenir  from  Abbot  di  Negri  to  the  much- 
honored  and  most-learned,  SiG.  Edgar  Besser." 

"  Father,"  he  said,  "  I  am  still  your  son." 
In  the  morning  the  old  man,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  kissed  him   on  both    cheeks.     They   were 
both  standing  under  the  great  gable  of  the  church. 


132  THE  DESTROYER 

As  he  went  up  the  cypress  avenue,  waving  adieu, 
Besser  felt  the  deplorable  deceptiveness  of  the 
emotions,  for  he  could  have  run  back  again,  over- 
powered by  the  "  Folly  of  the  Cross." 

He  took  with  him  the  Protestant  Bible  and  a 
crucifix,  a  volume  of  Giordano  Bruno,  and  of 
Machiavelli,  all  the  gifts  of  the  abbot,  and  they 
seemed  symbolical  of  his  myriad  mood. 

So  now  he  was  coming  to  stern  England,  with 
the  scent  of  that  sweet  incense  upon  him,  and 
his  eyes  were  colored  as  with  the  rich  glow  of 
medieval  windows.  At  first  he  felt  the  vague 
uneasiness  of  all  unanchored  things.  All  through 
life  he  was  to  bear  about  with  him  the  smoke  of 
incense,  like  an  elusive  symbol.  Even  when  he 
had  put  off  his  old  robes  of  faith,  it  seemed  to 
cling  to  his  garments,  now  less  picturesque,  and 
to  surround  him  like  a  protecting  atmosphere. 
His  heart  was  so  full,  and  he  knew  so  well  the 
need  of  disclosure,  that  he  was  in  danger  of  un- 
veiling himself  even  to  those  who  were  unfit  to 
hear.  For  he  had  a  wild  orator  in  him,  and  he 
always  sublimated  an  audience  to  his  level.  Long 
ago,  in  England,  he  had  once  made  a  speech  to 
miners,  and  when  he  told  them  all  the  hidden 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS   1 33 

greatness  that  was  in  them — nuggets  and  veins  of 
bright  metal — their  faces  glowed  for  a  moment  as 
if  it  had  been  true.  "  Look,  men,"  he  had  said,  "  I 
will  take  each  of  you  at  his  finest  moment,  I  will 
possess  him  in  golden  packets  and  gorgeous 
bits  !  " 

Thus,  too,  he  spoke  deeply  to  his  servant  Prahl, 
throwing  away  hundreds  of  pearls  upon  Jiim,  until 
Prahl  thought  he  had  become  the  servant  of  a 
mad  dreamer.  They  were  now  in  Paris.  It  was 
September,  1870,  a  few  months  before  the  begin- 
ning of  the  siege.  Besser  felt  the  extraordinary 
dramatic  contrast  of  this  commotion  after  the  still 
life  he  had  been  leading.  They  had  got  in  with 
the  greatest  difficulty,  but  Prahl  knew  a  colonel 
of  a  regiment  who  gave  them  lines,  and  they 
passed  the  "  military  zone  "  unmolested.  Besser 
saw  the  wreck  of  the  nation,  and  he  waited  to  see 
more.  He  smiled  derisively  at  the  wan  beings 
who  were  called  out  to  form  the  national  defense 
— men  undermined  by  modern  pleasures,  and 
who,  because  they  had  been  beaten  in  that  battle 
of  the  instincts,  as  he  said,  would  never  face  the 
Prussian  guns.  It  was  the  evening  of  the  third 
of  September,  when  the  news  came  that    Mac- 


134  THE  DESTROYER 

Mahon  was  defeated,  and  the  Emperor  in  captiv- 
ity. Night  was  coming  down  on  the  vast  city, 
with  its  two  millions  of  breathless  beings,  pale 
with  emotion.  What  a  scene  !  The  Court  had 
fled.  There  were  cries  of  ^'  D^cMance  !  ''  "  Vive 
Trochu  !  "  "  Vive  la  Rdpublique  !  "  They  were 
moved  involuntarily  from  street  to  street  by 
the  crowds  ebbing  and  flowing.  The  whole 
nation  seemed  to  have  expanded  into  a  huge 
family  in  a  moment,  and  2,  frisson  of  brotherhood, 
in  face  of  the  invader,  passed  through  the  hearts 
of  rich  and  poor,  and  linked  them  electrically. 
Groups  were  storming  the  kiosks  for  the  journals, 
and  were  reading  by  the  feeble  gaslight,  for  the 
Government  had  already  ordered  economy  of 
gas.  Half  the  city  was  enveloped  in  darkness, 
and  there  was  a  feeling  of  calamity  imminent. 
The  chairs  of  the  cafes  on  the  Boulevards  were 
occupied  by  a  standing,  not  a  sitting  crowd,  and 
Besser  seemed  to  catch  the  very  gesture  of  the 
nation's  despair.  There  were  loud,  angry  cries, 
and  blasphemies  against  great  names  that  had 
yesterday  been  mentioned  obsequiously,  and  then 
a  low,  suppressed  groan  of  the  enraged  multitude, 
muttering  against  its  traitors.     Here,  indeed,  was 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    135 

one  of  the  great  crowds  of  history  with  passion 
hot  enough  to  make  a  lover  of  paradox  say  that 
the  difference  of  historical  periods  is  thermometric. 

"  Keep  near,"  said  Besser,  gripping  Prahl,  "  this 
is  life  ! " 

They  were  in  the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  and  were  being 
carried  along  past  the  gates  of  the  Tuileries  to 
the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  The  September  sky 
was  blue  dark  above  the  city.  The  crowds  were 
already  taking  up  their  position  for  to-morrow 
round  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  where  the 
Republic  would  be  proclaimed.  Carriages  and 
carts  were  arrested  in  the  mid  traffic,  and  were 
standing  stock  still,  with  people  climbing  up  on 
them.  The  roofs  were  packed,  and  boys  had 
mounted  the  lamp-posts  to  see  better,  and  be  out 
of  danger.  The  Imperial  arms  set  above  the 
doors  of  those  who  had  been  yesterday  fournis- 
seurs  to  the  Court  were  being  torn  from  their 
places  amid  the  revengeful  laughter  and  mockery 
of  the  people. 

"  Crickie,"  said  Prahl,  "  the  squeezes ! " 

He  found  a  grisette  near  him,  and  whispered  to 
her,  while  Besser  held  colloquy  with  his  neighbor, 
who  was  a  gendarme. 


136  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Qu'est  ce  que  tu  veux,  cherie  ? "  whispered 
Prahl,  and  put  his  arm  round  her  waist.  "  Mi- 
gnonne  J  l' amour  cest  la  vraie  revolution,  la  vraie 
guerre,  nest  ce  pas  ?  " 

Grisette  said  yes,  and  nudged  nearer. 

The  Prussians  were  almost  within  six  marches 
of  Paris.  When  the  wounded,  who  had  gone  out 
hale  to  meet  them,  passed  in  slow  military 
wagons  through  the  crowd,  there  was  a  murmur 
of  sorrow  and  pity.  The  ramparts  were  rising  all 
round  the  city,  and  houses  were  being  pulled 
ruthlessly  down  to  make  room  for  the  "  military 
zone,"  while  those  who  were  now  homeless  were 
flocking  into  the  city.  The  Bois  de  Boulogne 
was  being  devastated,  and  the  great  trees  were 
falling  to  the  ax.  Besser  went  hither  and  thither 
to  examine  the  main  points  of  the  city,  and  he 
was  present  at  the  Louvre  when  the  great  pictures 
and  treasures  of  art  were  being  packed  and  sent 
off  to  Brest,  marked  "  fragile."  There  were  al- 
ready signs  of  the  approaching  famine.  In  some 
quarters  only  the  bakers'  shops  were  open,  and 
the  indispensable  hairdressers,'  since  the  last 
thing  France  would  surrender  would  be  its  toilet. 
Horseflesh  was  already  being  consumed  in  the 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS   1 37 

poorer  quarters,  and  the  city  was  living  on  a  di- 
minishing menu. 

But  Besser  marked  still  another  phase  in  the 
great  city's  commotion.  The  Prussian  guns 
might  boom,  but  lust  still  sent  its  votaries,  like 
children,  early  to  bed.  Nay,  it  was  known  that 
the  courtezans  were  hurrying  to  nurse  the 
wounded,  hastily  improvising  themselves  into 
nurses,  in  order  to  mingle  the  excitement  of  war 
with  their  own  personal  excitement  in  therapeu- 
tics. Besser  stood  watching  the  ghastly  physiog- 
nomy of  men  and  women  who  made  the  public 
calamity  the  occasion  of  private  debauch.  He 
saw  the  idiotic  smile  of  invitation,  and  whispered 
to  Prahl :  "  Paris  will  fall !  " 

One  night  he  had  an  unforgettable  experience. 
He  went  to  dine  at  Brabant's,  where  Renan, 
Edmund  de  Goncourt,  Berthelot,  Nefftzer,  and 
Saint  Victor  regularly  assembled.  He  saw  Renan 
enter  and  sit  at  a  table  to  read  a  newspaper.  He 
was  like  a  priest,  large,  corpulent,  with  double 
chin,  but  his  white  hair,  which  was  still  plenteous, 
rounded  off  a  noble  head.  Besser  watched  him 
moving  his  arms  in  gestures  of  disappointment 
and  irritation  as  he  read  the  latest  evil  fortunes 


138  THE   DESTROYER 

of  the  war.  When  the  others  had  assembled, 
Besser  bribed  a  waiter  to  allow  him  to  remain  be- 
hind the  red  baize  service  door,  and  he  heard  part 
of  the  conversation.  Renan  was  foretelling  the 
destruction  of  France,  and  blaming  Catholicism. 

"  Out,  messieurs,''  he  was  saying,  "  les  allemands 
sont  une  race  sup^rieure  f  Le  Catholicisnie  est  une 
cr^tinisation  de  Vindividuy  Besser  almost  came 
out  from  his  lurking-place  in  defense  of  his  medi- 
eval dream.     Yi2idt.  he  \i^Qn  cretinized  ?     Ah,  what 

if ?     But  his  reflections  were  interrupted  by 

the  loud  protest  of  the  other  guests,  although  he 
could  not  distinguish  which  voice  was  loudest. 
Perhaps  it  was  De  Goncourt's.  He  ventured  to 
look  through  the  glass  paneling,  and  he  saw 
Renan  rise  and  walk  round  the  room,  beating  the 
air  with  his  hands,  and  pointing  contemptuously 
to  the  rabble  in  the  street,  and  adapting  frag- 
ments of  Scripture  : — 

"  Blessed  is  the  nation  that  hath  her  quiver  full  of 
them,  they  shall  meet  with  the  enemy  in  the  gate." 

"  //  fiy  a  rien  que  qa  !  " 

Besser  hurried  out,  but  he  was  to  be  witness  of 
a  still  stranger  scene.  The  streets  were  full  of 
the    murmuring    crowd,    who    seemed    to    have 


DISCOVERS  ONE  OF  THE  SUPREME  MOMENTS    1 39 

become  more  panic-stricken.  He  had  arrived  at 
the  Rue  de  Vannes  when  he  heard  a  strange  cry. 
It  was  one  of  the  badly-lit  streets,  but  he  was  able 
to  distinguish  an  angry  mob  that  stood  beneath 
some  lighted  windows.  He  heard  a  persistent 
cry :  "  A  bas  les  lupanars  !  "  (Down  with  the 
bawdy-houses  !  ")  A  strange  shiver  passed  over 
Besser,  as  he  said  to  Prahl :  "  This  is  one  of  the 
great  moments  of  history !  "  Indeed,  the  people 
seem  to  have  detected  the  root  of  their  peril. 
They  knew  where  the  Destroyer  sat !  The  lights 
were  turned  out,  and  in  a  few  moments  Besser 
saw  some  pale  wretches  being  dragged  from  the 
beds  of  their  delusion  into  the  hisses  and  jeers  of 
the  angry  crowd.  Besser  felt  it  was  the  apex  of 
national  tragedy.  He,  too,  began  to  take  part  in 
the  cry,  and  shouted  "  A  das  les  lupanars  !  "  when 
he  became  aware  of  a  strange  figure  who  seemed 
to  be  addressing  the  crowd  in  excited  gestures. 
He  was  a  man,  slightly  built,  not  tall,  of  refined 
features,  now  animated  with  the  intoxication  of 
rapid  speech,  and  with  fair  hair  appearing  below 
the  brim  of  a  low,  brown  hat.  He  had  been  call- 
ing out  alternately  in  French  and  English,  in 
hoarse  voice :  "  A  bas  les  lupanars  ! — Oui  /  " 


140  THE  DESTROYER 

"  O  God  !  "  exclaimed  Besser,  when  he  saw  his 
face,  "  it's  Hubert  !  "  and  he  was  almost  stunned. 

He  struggled  to  get  near  him,  crying:  "It's 
Hubert !  " 

Hubert  was  standing  on  a  bench,  and  turned 
at  the  sound,  but  at  first  could  not  recognize 
Besser  in  the  sea  of  faces. 

He  went  on  with  his  speech — "  A  has  !  A  has 
les  lupanars  !  " — as  if  a  demon  energy  had  pos- 
session of  him. 

"  Hubert !  "  cried  Besser  again  with  his  voice 
breaking. 

Suddenly  Hubert  saw  him,  and  jumped  down 
with  nightmare  on  his  face.  They  shook  hands 
without  speaking,  and  disappeared,  clinging  to 
each  other,  through  the  pressing  crowd. 

"  O  Edgar,  I'm  glad  it's  dark  that  you  can't 
see  me  !     Give  me  your  hand,  old  chappie  !  " 


CHAPTER  II 

l'homme  joyeux 

"  They  are  all  upbraiding  me,"  wrote  Violet, 
three  days  after  Hubert  had  been  taken  from  her. 
"  They  say  I  deserve  my  punishment.  Oh  yes, 
perhaps  I  do  ;  because  I  never  believed  the  worst 
they  said,  and  because,  even  though  I  had,  I  would 
have  taken  him  in  his  repentance.     I  am  wicked  ! 

0  God,   help  me  to  bear  this  !     I  am  crushed  : 

1  am  not  proud  any  more.  Because  I  loved 
him,  and  not  merely  loved  his  love  for  me,  like 
other  women,  I  have  received  this  blow.  They 
wag  their  heads  at  me,  and  ask  why  I  married  him. 
I  answer  that  I  married  him  because  I  saw  his  soul 
shining  like  a  light  in  a  poor  temple.  I  confess 
I  did  not  wish  to  know  that  the  temple  was  in 
ruins.  I  am  wicked  because  I  took  him  in  the 
middle  of  his  renouncement.  I  loved  him.  I 
couldn't  help  it.  Yes,  it  was  sudden  like  a  ship- 
wreck. .  .  .  Oh,  I  am  afraid  !     Father  is  raging. 

141 


142  THE   DESTROYER 

He  !  And  mother  is  weeping  her  life  away.  / 
have  done  it  all.  They  tell  me  he  will  have  lucid 
intervals,  and  I  will  have  him  back.  /  will  never 
have  lucid  intervals !  Now  I  begin  to  see  why 
insanity  fascinated  great  dramatic  minds,  like 
Shakespeare  and  the  Greek  tragedians.  .  .  . 
Come,  sorrow,  whet  your  music  !  " 

She  shut  herself  in,  fleeing  from  the  dry  "  Ha ! 
ha!"  and  "I  told  you!"  of  their  virtue.  She 
knew  that  joy  was  finished,  and  that,  if  it  ever 
came  again,  she  would  meet  it  with  the  surprise 
with  which  we  meet  purple  flowers  in  autumn. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried  in  her  desolateness,  "  God — 
Christ — any  kind  power  of  mercy,  give  me,  then,- 
a  whip  of  cords  for  my  profanation  !  for  I  off^er 
myself  completely,  and  am  not  proud  any  more." 

There  w'as  now  silence  in  the  old  House  of 
Rimmon,  and  the  very  servants  went  tiptoe. 
Not  a  sound  along  the  huge  corridors,  double 
carpeted,  except  now  and  again  the  noise  of  a 
shutting  door.  Violet  used  to  let  her  terrier  sit 
for  hours  whining  at  her  bedroom  and  scraping 
to  get  in.  She  never  saw  her  father,  and  her 
mother  came  knocking,  but  often  went  away 
unanswered.     The    summer    heat    was    beating 


L'HOMME  JOYEUX  I43 

against  the  walls,  and  sending  bees  humming 
through  the  open  windows,  but  she  never  stirred. 
Dr.  Bede  came  to  see  her,  and  found  her  some- 
times lost  in  a  waking  dream.  He  came  softly  to 
her,  not  mentioning  his  old  warning,  or  screwing 
his  eyes  in  satisfaction  over  the  accuracy  of  it. 

"  Doctor,"  exclaimed  Violet,  "  the  iniquitous 
velocity  of  it !  " 

"  My  dear,"  said  the  doctor,  "  have  patience. 
We  shall  make  him  well  again.  It's  the  remittent 
type." 

"  The  what  ?  "  she  cried,  amid  the  dropping  of 
her  tears. 

Dr.  Bede  did  not  explain  everything,  although 
he  gave  Hubert's  disorder  many  a  name.  It  was 
likely  that  he  would  live  about  two  years.  Half 
Violet's  burden  was  lightened  when  she  heard 
that  the  disease  was  congenital.  The  grandfather, 
whose  portrait  Mrs.  Proudfoot  had  taken  down 
to  compare  with  her  son's,  had  died  of  paralysis. 
Hubert's  trouble,  latent  for  years,  had  suddenly 
displayed  itself  in  an  attack  of  maniacal  excite- 
ment. It  was  the  fulfilment  of  Bede's  prophecy. 
Meantime,  he  told  Violet  that  it  was  the  result 
of  neurasthenia.     But  it  was  far  more.     Hubert 


144  THE  DESTROYER 

had  already  the  Ddire  des  grandeurs.  He  had 
assured  the  doctor  that  he  was  the  greatest  re- 
former the  world  had  ever  seen,  and  that  he  was 
busy  healing  the  sick,  and  especially  delivering 
mankind  from  the  bondage  of  a  fiend.  He  com- 
plained of  the  vast  crowds  that  pressed  round  him 
for  help. 

"Oh,  /.'"  he  exclaimed  rapidly,  but  in  an 
apparently  normal  voice,  "  I  will  crush  it  out  of 
the  world,  you  know.  I  will  ruin  him,  you  know, 
the  way  he  has  ruined  7ne.     A  bas  !  " 

The  Gates  was  a  vast  building,  containing  some 
two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  insane.  Hubert 
was  kept  alone,  while  those  who  were  less  excit- 
able were  herded  in  long  rooms,  where  most  of 
them  stood  immobile  for  hours.  And  yet,  if  you 
visited  it,  you  would  ask,  like  Burke,  where  the 
insane  are,  since  they  go  about  like  ordinary 
people,  and  appear  to  act  from  the  same  motives. 
In  Hubert's  case  the  main  effort  was  to  bring 
back  his  bodily  health,  and,  at  least,  he  had  youth 
on  his  side.  Two  months  passed,  and  Dr.  Bede 
announced  a  "  remission,"  to  be  followed,  doubt- 
less, by  a  lucid  interval.  The  unmistakable  signs 
were  already  appearing.      The  pupils  of  his  eyes. 


L*HOMME  JOYEUX  I45 

which  had  become  like  pin  points,  were  resuming 
their  usual  condition,  and  the  old,  rather  un- 
canny light,  began  to  shine  in  them.  But  Bede 
refused  to  allow  Violet  to  see  him,  although  she 
implored.  She  would  nurse  him,  she  said.  It 
could  not  be.  The  slow  doom  seemed  at  last  to 
have  fallen  on  the  old  House  of  Rimmon,  and  it 
lay  inert  on  its  foundations,  dead  without  and 
within.  Not  even  the  servants  appeared  at 
church,  obeying  a  command  to  keep  down  pub- 
licity. Only  now  and  again  Lady  Rimmon  might 
be  seen  sitting  at  Euxine's  grave.  Violet  was 
never  seen  at  all.  Slow  hours !  She  was  study- 
ing forms  of  alienation,  or  looking  from  her  win- 
dows, like  a  frightened  creature,  on  the  ripening 
lawn.  The  peasants  did  their  work  mechanically, 
unsupervised,  almost  in  whispers,  and  when  they 
came  together  used  to  gossip  their  awe. 

"  All's  goin'  wrong  since  the  Prince  died," 
muttered  Isaac. 

"  Aye,  me  !  "  said  Mother  Dagon. 

Violet  came  no  more  into  the  fields  to  welcome 

the  reapers,  and  the  poppies  were  again  left  for 

Miriam    to    pluck.       Miriam    was   still   puzzling 

Cubitt,  and  laughing  at  his  awkward  legs.    Cubitt 
10 


146  THE   DESTROYER 

was  still  bewildered,  and  waiting  in  patience. 
Isaac  grew  more  blind  and  bent,  and  Mother 
Dagon's  step  was  as  nervous  as  sin's.  Only  once 
or  twice  Miriam  used  to  sing,  but  not  loudly, 
among  the  sheaves  : — 

The  clematis  climbs 
Like  a  purple  adder 
And  the  sun's  on  the  limes ! 

But  Violet  used  to  hum  a  low  song  over  die 
Verlorene  Liebe.  "  I  believe,"  she  wrote,  "  that 
sympathy  is  our  master  feeling,  and  I  never  leave 
a  plant  alone  but  give  it  a  companion  plant.  .  .  . 
If  they  will  let  me,  I  will  go  and  see  him.  I  am 
frightened  he  will  escape  and  go  storming  through 
the  world.  Ah,  me !  he  once  said,  almost  in  the 
words  of  Dr.  Bede,  that  he  would  spend  his  life, 
like  Edgar  Besser,  lifting  men  out  of  the  fate 
of  the  five  senses  !  .  .  .  He  used  to  talk  about 
Lucifer.  .  .  .  They  say  he  gets  quieter,  and 
some  day — perhaps  ? — resurrection  !  It's  a  won- 
derful word ! " 

"  Look  here,"  said  Hubert  one  day  to  Bede, 
who  welcomed  a  new  firmness  of  tone,  "  I'm 
happy." 


L'HOMME  JOYEUX  I47 

"  You're  getting  better,"  said  Bede ;  "  I  con- 
gratulate you,  Hubert." 

"  Better  ?  "  he  asked  vacantly. 

They  had  allowed  his  hair  to  grow  long,  and 
he  looked  like  a  musician.  They  often  gave  him 
his  guitar,  and  he  sang  himself  to  sanity. 

"  How  did  you  feel  those  weeks  ? "  asked 
Bede. 

"  What  weeks  ?  " 

"  The  weeks  you've  been  ill." 

Hubert  looked  surprised. 

"  You  think  I've  been  ill.  I'm  like  a  diver  who 
has  seen  all  the  sunk  jewelry  of  the  sea ! " 

**Well,  what  have  you  brought  up?"  asked 
Bede,  smiling. 

"  Eh  !  "  said  Hubert  with  a  knowing  leer,  "  gay 
pearls  and  strange  fish." 

He  seemed,  meantime,  content,  and  another 
week  was  let  pass. 

"How  is  he?"  asked  Violet  with  quickened 
breathing ;  "  will  I  see  him  soon  ?  " 

"  Let  him  be  for  another  month,"  he  replied. 

"  Look!"  said  Hubert,  tapping  his  head  as  if 
he  felt  new  and  better  sensations. 

The   truth   was,  the   attack  was   passing,  but 


148  THE  DESTROYER 

Bede  had  no  intention  of  immediately  releasing 
him.  Hubert  had  said  one  day,  with  recurrent 
excitement,  due  to  his  consciousness  of  his  sur- 
roundings, that  he  would  never  go  back  to  Rim- 
mon  House.  Like  all  the  mentally  alienated,  he 
had  no  distinct  consciousness  of  the  period  of 
darkness,  but  neither  could  he  take  up,  intelli- 
gently, the  thread  of  his  life  where  it  had  been 
broken. 

"  I  know  what's  wrong  with  me,"  he  said  help- 
lessly, one  day.  "  I  remember  poor  Violet. 
Where's  Violet  ?  Were  there  two  ?  I  can't  see 
them.     Let  me  go.  .  .  ." 

Dr.  Bede  preferred  it  thus,  and  communicated 
with  Mrs.  Proudfoot.  Hubert's  release  was  to 
be  kept  secret.  In  a  month's  time,  perhaps,  the 
old  relations  might  be  renewed,  and  Violet  and 
Hubert  would  come  together  again.  So  he  was 
driven  late  one  night,  thirty  miles  out  of  Mulvey, 
to  catch  a  train  at  Trenton.  His  removal  was 
kept  a  profound  secret.  Dr.  Bede  accompanied 
him  to  Trebovir  Road.  During  the  journey  he 
remained  silent,  but  gave  a  cry  of  recognition,  as 
he  drove  up  to  his  door  and  saw  his  mother  stand- 
ing on  the  steps.     She  controlled  herself  for  the 


L  HOMME  JOYEUX  I49 

sake  of  her  son,  and  received  him  as  if  he  had 
parted  from  her  last  week.  No  reference  was 
made  to  his  illness  or  his  marriage,  but  she  wept 
over  his  indifference  and  the  slow  dawning  of  his 
reason.  A  man-servant  was  directed  to  follow 
him  continually.  Hubert  knew  it,  and  resented 
it.  Sometimes  he  reddened  as  if  ashamed,  and 
spoke  harshly  to  his  mother.  But  with  the  pecul- 
iar cunning  of  all  disturbed  minds,  he  lay  in  wait 
for  his  opportunity.  As  they  all  do,  he  simulated 
perfect  sanity  with  extraordinary  skill.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  so  convalescent  that  his  own  money 
was  put  into  his  hands  when  he  asked  for  it.  He 
read  the  newest  books.  He  would  have  driven 
with  his  mother,  or  even  ridden  in  the  Park,  but 
that  he  wished  for  a  time  to  escape  his  friends. 
None  of  them  saw  him,  for  he  remained  indoors, 
and  no  one  knew  of  his  apparition.  Bede  reported 
progress  after  each  visit.  Violet  believed  him  to 
be  still  near  her,  and  when  she  asked  Dr.  Bede  he 
said  he  was  getting  better.  The  month  was 
nearly  at  an  end,  and  he  hoped  to  bring  him  back 
to  Mulvey. 

As  we  know,  it  was  the  year  of  the   Franco- 
Prussian   war.     Hubert   had    been    reading    the 


I50  THE  DESTROYER 

papers,  and  the  stir  had  excited  him.  Paris 
seemed  like  a  huge  electric  battery  drawing  him 
by  unseen  coils.  Suddenly  one  day  he  disap- 
peared. He  had  been  long  planning  his  escape. 
Search  was  made  all  over  London,  but  in  vain. 
Mrs.  Proudfoot,  amazed  and  stricken,  telegraphed 
to  Bede,  who  immediately  came  to  town.  She 
thought  he  might  be  at  Mulvey.  Bede  tele- 
graphed to  Violet,  and  when  the  reply  came  that 
he  wasn't,  the  excitement  of  both  families  became 
intense.  In  an  hour  all  Mulvey  knew  the  rumor. 
Three  days  passed,  and  no  news  came.  Violet 
hurried  to  London,  and  Dr.  Bede  had  at  last  to 
tell  her  the  truth,  and  bear  the  bitterness  of  her 
upbraiding.  Rumor  came  that  an  Englishman 
had  jumped  from  the  steamer  that  sailed  between 
Reggio  and  Messina.  They  immediately  con- 
cluded it  was  he. 

"It  is  Hubert!"  cried  Violet,  almost  beside 
herself  ;  "  he  would  be  going  to  see  Besser,  as  he 
always  wished  to,  and  Besser's  in  Sicily,  not  come 
home  yet." 

Sir  Saul,  secretly  hoping  it  might  be  true, 
caused  inquiries  to  be  made,  and  the  description 
first  furnished  of  the  unknown  traveler  seemed 


l'homme  joyeux  151 

to  answer  to  Hubert's.  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  Lady 
Rimmon,  and  Violet  put  on  mourning,  and  the 
long  empty  space  in  Violet's  journal  indicates  the 
passing  of  empty  days.  But,  to  cause  the  bewil- 
derment of  them  all,  other  news  came  that  it  was 
not  Hubert  who  had  been  drowned,  but  an  Eng- 
lishman named  Arthur,  for  whom  letters  were 
waiting  at  Messina.  The  three  frantic  women  put 
their  black  dresses  into  their  wardrobes  again  ;  the 
stonecutter,  who  had  chiseled  Euxine's  epitaph, 
was  arrested  in  his  design  of  a  memorial  tablet 
for  Hubert,  and  Sir  Saul  deplored  that  the  truth 
was  not  what  he  had  wished  it  to  be.  Violet, 
stunned,  remained  in  her  room,  waiting  events. 
Hubert,  then,  had  found  his  way  to  Paris  by  the 
Lyons  route,  drawn  thither,  partly  through  his 
old  love  of  wandering,  and  partly  through  his 
desire  to  see  the  great  city's  confusion.  He 
offered  himself  as  one  of  the  National  Guard,  but 
was  put  aside  as  a  harmless,  mad  Englishman. 
He  loved  France.  The  sound  of  war,  the  crowds, 
even  the  danger  and  dramatic  feeling  of  the  time, 
suited  his  perturbed  mood.  At  first  he  kept  him- 
self well  in  check.  He  spoke  French,  like  Besser, 
with  very  little  accent,  because  he  had  learned  it 


152  THE  DESTROYER 

when  he  was  a  child.  He  wandered  about  the 
city.  Like  a  sleuth-hound  he  traced  vice  to  its 
centers,  and  visited  old  scenes  to  pronounce  his 
curse  on  them.  He  transformed  himself  into  a 
sort  of  maniacal  reformer,  and  was  among  the 
first  to  join  in  the  cry  *'  A  das  les  lupanars  !  " 
But  it  was  a  curious  sight,  and  he  was  himself 
hardly  conscious  of  its  irony  or  pathetic  ludicrous- 
ness.  He  was  making  wild  efforts  the  night  Bes- 
ser  stumbled  on  him.  The  crowds  who  used  to 
follow  him  from  place  to  place  where  he  laid  siege 
had  given  him  a  sobriquet,  and  called  him,  "  Le 
J^sus  Anglais''  "  Out/  "  he  replied,  accepting 
it.  "/e  suis  le  J^sus  Anglais.  Eh  bien,  mes 
fr^res.  A  bas  ces  mauvaises  maisons,  sil  vous 
plait!  Elles  d^truisent  vos  beaux  corps,  chers 
garqons,  Allans ! "  Roars  of  French  laughter 
used  to  follow  these  speeches,  but  sometimes  the 
crowd  caught  their  deeper  meaning. 

When,  at  length,  he  recognized  Edgar  that 
night,  Hubert  almost  fainted.  The  two  men 
shook  hands,  and  pushed  their  way  through  the 
bleared  multitude  into  quieter  streets.  They 
went  forward,  unable  to  speak,  till  at  last  Besser 
asked  him  where  he  was  living. 


l'homme  joyeux  153 

**  O  Edgar,"  said  Hubert,  "  how  strange ! 
What  has  not  happened  since  we  parted  ?  Where 
was  it  ?  " 

•*  At  Oxford." 

"  I'm  never  going  back  to  England  !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Besser,  "  you'll  come  back 
with  me." 

"  You  know  I  was  married  to  Violet  Rimmon  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Besser. 

"  I  could  never  see  her  again,  you  know." 

"Why  not?" 

"  There  was  a  great  blank.     I'll  tell  you  again." 

"  We'll  give  them  a  surprise,  Hubert,"  said 
Besser,  nudging  him.  "  You'll  come  and  live 
with  me,  and  we'll  go  over  some  morning  and 
take  them  unawares." 

"Oh,  never!"  exclaimed  Hubert.  "It  was 
awful,  and  I'm  ashamed  !  " 

They  had  arrived  at  Besser's  hotel,  and  Prahl, 
who  had  been  following,  came  in  shortly  be- 
hind. 

"  Will  you  not  rather  stay  here  ? "  asked 
Besser  doubtfully,  and  observing  the  old  perpetual 
strange  inquiry  in  Hubert's  eyes  which  now  flick- 
ered unsteadily. 


154  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Oh  yes,  I  would  like  to,"  he  replied.  "  I'll 
do  anything  to  be  with  you,  Ed." 

"  ril  send  my  man  for  your  things." 

"  Here's  money  for  the  bill,"  said  Hubert, 
handing  three  hundred  francs  to  Prahl. 

"  You're  better,  Hubert  ?  " 

Hubert  nodded,  but  Besser  was  not  quite  sure 
of  him. 

"  D'you  know,"  said  Hubert  quickly,  "  this 
war  is  a  huge  joke.  They're  just  trying  to  get  it 
up  to  frighten  fiie.  They  fill  the  papers  with  it, 
and  it's  just  a  pretense  and  a  cowardly  attempt 
to  frighten  me.'* 

"No,  no,  Hubert,  we're  going  away." 

"  Away  !     Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Home,  and  you'll  come  with  me,  you  know. 
Back  to  Violet  and  Mulvey.     It'll  be  all  right." 

"Never!"  exclaimed  Hubert;  "my  work's 
here — h  has  !  " 

"  It's  all  right,  Hubert,"  said  Besser,  quietening 
him. 

"  It's  a  conspiracy  to  take  me  away.  Oh,  I 
won't,  you  know  !  "  replied  Hubert  angril)^ 

"  Yes,  yes.     D'you  not  know  me  ?     I'm  Edgar." 

"  Yes,  you're  Edgar  of  long  ago." 


L*HOMME  JOYEUX  1 55 

When  Prahl  came  back,  Besser  told  him  that 
they  must  escape  next  day.  They  would  have  to 
take  Hubert  away  by  force,  and  he  explained  to 
Prahl  most  that  had  happened,  and  who  Hubert 
was.  Besser  thought  to  take  him  home,  get  him 
in  unobserved  to  his  own  house,  and  make  every- 
thing right  again  in  a  few  days.  He  had  sent 
instructions  to  Ruth  Profeit,  who  was  a  poor  rela- 
tive of  his  mother,  to  make  final  preparations  for 
his  return.  But  now  that  he  had  stumbled  on 
Hubert  he  did  not  give  the  exact  day  of  his  arrival, 
for  he  wished  to  avoid  publicity.  Meantime, 
Hubert  was  to  be  Prahl's  special  charge,  and 
Prahl  took  an  oath  of  secrecy. 

"  Crickie !  "  said  Prahl,  as  he  ran  out  to  obtain 
pass  lines,  "  I'm  to  be  keeper  of  a  mad  gent,  am 
I?" 

Next  day  Besser  saw  that  the  sooner  he  left 
with  Hubert  the  better.  He  was  becoming  more 
difficult  to  manage  and  persuade.  But  at  last 
Besser  humored  him  with  some  success,  and  said 
they  were  merely  going  into  the  country.  They 
took  his  baggage  away,  and  in  a  few  hours  they 
had  left  Paris  behind,  and  were  on  their  road  to 
Marseilles.     Luckily,  Hubert  had  fallen    into    a 


156  THE   DESTROYER 

state  of  depression  and  sleep,  and  seemed  una- 
ware of  his  surroundings.  They  were  in  London 
in  a  week,  but  without  Prahl's  help  Besser  could 
hardly  have  brought  the  journey  to  so  successful 
an  end.  At  first  he  thought  it  right  to  go  to 
Mrs.  Proudfoot,  and  leave  Hubert  at  Trebovir 
Road.  He  sent  Prahl  to  make  inquiries,  but 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  was  not  at  home,  and  the  house 
was  shut  up.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
take  him  to  Mulvey,  but  he  determined  to  arrive 
at  night.     Hubert  seemed  resigned. 

"  Edgar,"  he  said,  "  you're  right.  I'm  happy. 
Vve  a  thought.  I'm  the  homme  joyeux  !  I  was 
shocked  and  ashamed.  Now  I  know  my  duty. 
It  is  this — you'll  marry  Violet.  Oh  yes  !  I'll  free 
her.  I'm  unworthy.  I'll  look  at  her  only  once 
to  say,  *  I  make  you  free,'  and  then  I'll  go  away." 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense,  old  chap,"  said  Besser, 
who  noticed  the  strange  alteration  of  Hubert's 
moods.  "  You're  all  right.  We'll  give  them  a 
surprise  ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Hubert,  breathing  more  quickly, 
**  a  surprise  !  " 

They  traveled    in  the   same  compartment  from 


l'homme  joyeux  157 

London,  while  Prahl  was  alone  in  a  second-class 
carriage.  They  were  to  dismount  at  Trenton, 
about  ten  at  night,  and  then  drive  to  Mulvey.  It 
was  moonlight,  and  Besser  looked  out  of  the 
windows  of  the  train  on  the  familiar  landscape 
which  he  had  not  seen  for  four  years.  Hubert 
was  sleeping,  and  he  did  not  disturb  him.  He 
kept  thinking  how  he  was  going  to  break  the 
news  to  Violet.  Surely  it  was  going  to  be  one  of 
the  great  services  of  his  life.  He  had  rescued 
Hubert.  He  knew  all  that  had  happened  since 
he  had  seen  Violet,  but  Hubert  had  made  only 
vague  mention  of  it.  Besser  knew  that  Violet 
would  feel  grateful  to  him  forever.  Thanks  to 
his  renunciation  of  the  monastic  life  he  was  able 
to  do  a  thing  like  this.  It  was  not  with  repulsion 
that  he  had  seen  Hubert  again.  Really,  there  is 
inexplicable  fascination  about  the  dissolute  before 
they  have  been  finally  ruined.  They  have  their 
dooms  on  them.  They  have  the  look  as  if  they 
have  been  sittingin  strange  places,  where  the  pale- 
ness of  their  delusion  came  over  them.  They  have 
touched  beauty  and  it  has  withered.  They  know 
empty  cups.  They  played  long  with  Error  till  it 
tossed  them  on  its  horns  !     And  they  know  that 


158  THE  DESTROYER 

there  is  nothing  so  ludicrous  in  the  whole  physi- 
ology of  love  in  its  decay  as  the  limp  touch 
which  simulates  ecstasy.  On  these  things  Besser 
pondered  as  he  looked  at  Hubert.  It  was  ful- 
filled prophecy.  And  yet  Hubert  was  now  more 
pitiable  still  after  all  that  fatigue  of  sin.  It  was 
tragic,  but  there  were  worse  tragedies.  His  was 
still  the  inner  delicacy  of  feeling  made  pathetic 
in  its  ruin  and  inversion.  A  late  come  reformer ! 
It  is  strange  that  the  finest  organism  is  most  in 
danger,  struck  and  shifted  by  every  wind,  I 
know,  thought  Besser,  as  he  looked  at  Hubert's 
pale,  stretched  form,  beauty  is  a  scourge,  and  he 
has  been  whipped.  We  said  it  long  ago.  But  so 
also  suffered  St.  Francis,  and  just  because  he 
knew  sensuous  things,  and  partook  their  stain,  is 
he  lovable.  Nay,  half  his  later  "  Folly  of  the 
Cross  "  came  from  his  sensuousness.  The  abbot 
and  I  used  to  have  long  talks  about  this.  Who 
would  have  thought  him  a  possible  saint  in  the 
midst  of  his  orgies  ?  He  must  have  been  as  re- 
pulsive as  poor  Hubert.  Had  he,  too,  this  soft 
sourire  of  delusion  ?  Moral  immobility  is  not 
sainthood.  Saint,  I  must  know  your  dreams  ! 
Meantime,  in  another  part  of  the  train,  Prahl 


l'homme  joyeux  159 

sat  turning  his  fortunes  over  in  his  mind.  "  A 
pair  of  strange  pals  !  "  he  thought  as  he  considered 
Besser's  and  Proudfoot's  conduct  during  the  past 
few  days.  He  could  not  understand  why  Besser 
had  saddled  himself  with  a  madcap  like  Hubert. 
He  wondered  for  what  exact  purpose  Besser 
had  made  him  swear  secrecy.  Doubtless, 
thought  Prahl,  he's  going  to  have  jinks  with  the 
wife.  "  Given  up  the  priesthood,"  exclaimed 
Prahl,  as  he  hurried  to  his  conclusion,  "  ha !  ha ! 
He's  going  to  have  jinks  with  the  idiot's  girl ! 
Here's  a  shine !  "  As  he  ruminated  thus,  the  train 
stopped  at  a  station  about  forty  miles  from 
London.  A  dark-eyed  girl,  with  her  hair  falling 
on  her  brow  beneath  her  hat,  which  was  set  with 
poppies  and  corn-flowers,  came  up  to  the  window, 
and  took  the  handle  of  the  door  as  if  she  wished 
to  enter.  It  was  Miriam,  who  had  been  on  an 
errand  for  Sir  Saul,  and  was  now  returning. 
When  she  saw  that  Prahl  was  alone  she  withdrew, 
obeying  a  curious  instinct  seen  every  day  on  the 
railways.  Prahl  rose,  pulled  down  the  window, 
opened  the  door,  and  lifted  his  hat.  Miriam  had 
turned,  but  she  turned  again  and  saw  him.  The 
guard's  whistle  sounded,  and  the  train  was  begin- 


l6o  THE   DESTROYER 

ning  to  move.  The  other  carriages  seemed  full, 
and  she  stepped  forward  again  towards  Prahl's. 

"  Jump  !  "  he  said,  "  you'll  be  late." 

Miriam  sprang  on  the  footboard,  and  Prahl 
caught  her  up  by  the  waist,  and  pulled  her  in. 

"  That  was  a  narrow  shave  !  "  said  Prahl.  "  Are 
you  frightened  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Miriam,  panting  and  smiling, 
opposite. 

Then  she  blushed  like  the  poppies,  and  looked 
shyly  at  the  stranger.  He  appeared  so  like  a 
gentleman  with  his  slim  figure  dressed  in  black, 
smooth  cheeks,  well-cropped  head,  and  laughing 
and  inquiring  eyes,  that  she  addressed  him  with 
a  shy  "  Yes,  sir,  if  you  please,"  when  he  asked  a 
question.  They  both  smiled,  which  made  things 
pleasant  for  a  start.  The  carriage  was  dimly  lit, 
but  Prahl  could  detect  all  Miriam's  charm,  and 
the  uncertain  light  of  the  wick  above  seemed  to 
add  to  her  witchery.  He  noticed  that  her  head 
had  a  tendency  to  be  poised  upwards.  He  thought 
it  was  to  show  her  neck — but  whether  or  not,  he 
agreed  that  every  face  looks  best  at  that  pose. 

"Where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid  ?"  he 
asked  playfully,  for  he  knew  that  form  of  address. 


l'homme  joyeux  i6i 

"  To  Mulvey,  sir,"  she  said. 

"  Mulvey  !     So  am  I.     That's  jolly  !  " 

The  train  stopped  at  another  station,  and  Prahl 
rose  with  a  frown.  Miriam  knew  why  he  was 
frowning. 

"  Oh,  this  is  not  Mulvey !  "  she  said. 

"  No,  but  I've  to  get  out  at  a  place  called 
Trenton  ;  perhaps  it's  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh  !  that's  four  stations  off  yet,"  said  Miriam. 

"  Ah  !  all  right." 

His  next  anxiety  was  lest  any  one  might  enter, 
and  he  crowded  the  window  with  himself  as  a 
make-belief  that  there  was  a  crush  inside.  But 
the  train  began  to  move  off,  and  he  sank  back 
with  a  sigh.  He  looked  at  Miriam,  and  they  both 
smiled  once  more.  It  was  the  smile  which  lingers 
to  do  the  work  of  words  on  such  occasions.  Ten 
minutes  ago  he  was  cursing  the  train  for  its  slow- 
ness and  now  he  was  cursing  its  speed  ;  although 
it  was  unchanged.  The  muscles  of  his  hands  were 
moving  and  he  was  sending  his  nails  into  it. 
Miriam  thought  she  had  never  seen  such  a  hand- 
some lad.  .  .  .  Cubitt ! 

"  Where  do  you  live  at  Mulvey  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Rimmon  House." 
II 


l62  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Prahl  with  a  start,  for  he  had  heard 
that  name. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  live,  sir  ?  "  Miriam 
ventured. 

"  Mulvey  House." 

"  Oh,  that's  quite  near !  We  can  see  its  chim- 
neys and  the  red  tower." 

"  All  the  better,"  said  Prahl,  laughing ;  "  I'm 
to  be  the  new  butler." 

Miriam's  eyes  brightened. 

"You're  to  be  the  new  butler?"  she  said, 
surprise  heightening  her  voice. 

"  Yes,  and  keeper  of  a  mad  gent.  We'll  see  each 
other,  eh?"  he  said,  rising  and  settling  near  her. 

The  knowledge  that  they  were  on  the  same 
social  level  helped  to  hurry  matters.  Miriam 
made  room  for  him. 

"  Isn't  it  horrid ! "  she  said, "  that  we've  to  travel 
second?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Prahl,  "  but  does  it  matter  when 
we've  it  all  to  ourselves  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said,  pushing  him  away. 

"  We  know  each  other  already,  eh  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Besser's  not  home  yet,  but  the  house  is 
ready.     They've  got  in  two  cows  and  some  horses 


l'homme  joyeux  163 

just  to  make  a  start  with  their  home  farm.  He's 
■  been  such  a  time  away !  "  said  Miriam. 

"  We'll  see  each  other  often,"  urged  Prahl. 

"  Why  are  you  going  out  at  Trenton  ?  " 

"  To  look  after  something." 

"  Trenton's  thirty  miles  from  Mulvey,"  she 
said. 

"  Yes.     Isn't  it  beastly  I've  to  go  out  ?  " 

"Ye — es,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"  It's  always  the  way." 

"Yes." 

"You've  had  experience?" 

She  laughed  and  pushed  him  away. 

"  It's  a  pity  winter's  coming  on,"  he  said ; 
"  there'll  be  nothing  to  do  outside." 

"  Oh,  there's  plenty  to  do  in  the  big  flower- 
houses  !  " 

"  Is  that  where  you're  to  be  found?" 

"Yes,  often." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  your  name  ?  " 

"  Miriam  Dagon,"  she  said. 

"  Mine's  Prahl !  " 

"Prahl?" 

"  Yes.  It's  a  German  name.  Heinrich  Prahl ! 
Call  me  Heinrich  if  you  like." 


164  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Hein — rich  !  "  repeated  Miriam. 

"  My  mother  was  English,  but  she  wasn't  so 
good-looking  as  you.     There,  now  !  " 

"  Oh !  "  she  said,  "  is  that  the  way  foreign  gen- 
tlemen go  on  ?  " 

"  Now  give  me  your  hand,"  said  Prahl,  rising. 
"  This  is  Trenton,  I  suppose,  and  we'll  say  '  Good- 
night '  before  the  train  stops." 

"  Good-night !  " 

He  bent  down  but  caught  himself  awkwardly 
half-way.  It  was  only  postponed.  He  lingered 
at  the  door  outside. 

"  Prahl !  Prahl ! "  Besser  was  calling. 


CHAPTER  III 

PERTURBATION 

There  had  been  an  anxious  night  with  Hubert. 

"  Edgar,"  he  said,  the  moment  he  entered  Mul- 
vey,  and  in  contradiction  of  what  he  had  said 
previously,  "  /  will  not  see  her.     I  refuse  !  " 

"  You'll  see  her  to-morrow,  old  chap.  You're 
all  right." 

"  No ! "  he  said ;  "  it's  cruel  of  you  to  have 
brought  me  here.  I  meant  to  stay  away,  and 
then  free  her  forever.  It's  iniquitous  what  she'll 
suffer ! " 

"  She's  suffering  because  she  thinks  you're  lost, 
Hubert." 

"  Yes,  I'm  lost !  " 

"  Not  to  her." 

"  Oh !  "  cried   Hubert,  "  I  never  felt  like  this 

before.      I   wish    I    were   a   child   again   at   my 

mother's  knee." 

"Hubert!" 

^65 


l66  THE   DESTROYER 

"Yes,  Ned,  why  should  all  the  bad  things  have 
come  running  to  me  like  beetles  ?  /  never  wanted 
them." 

"Hubert,  get  to  bed!  You're  ill  and  tired 
with  the  journey." 

"  Do  /  sleep  at  night  ?  " 

"  Hubert ! "  exclaimed  Besser  again,  agitated 
and  wondering  for  the  future. 

"  Let  me  climb  the  tower  to  see  the  lights  at 
her  window.  You  can  see  their  house,  can't  you, 
over  the  trees?  " 

"  Yes,  but  you  mustn't  to-night." 

"  I  will !  She  may  not  be  in  bed,"  and  he  ran 
out  of  the  library. 

"  Prahl !  Prahl !  "  he  called,  "  where's  the  door 
for  the  tower?     Come,  Prahl !  " 

"  Devil  if  /  know !  "  said  Prahl,  sauntering  from 
the  butler's  pantry. 

"  If  you  wish,  then,"  said  Besser,  dismayed. 
"  Bring  a  light ;  here's  the  door." 

Ruth  Profeit,  the  housekeeper,  a  woman  about 
forty,  with  a  pleasant,  homely  face  and  brown 
eyes,  came  with  a  lantern. 

"  The  stairs  are  dirty,  Mr.  Edgar,"  she  said. 
"  They  haven't  had  a  drop  of  water  for  years." 


PERTURBATION  167 

"  It  doesn't  matter,"  said  Besser,  and  they 
began  to  ascend. 

Besser  went  first  with  the  light,  then  Hubert, 
then  Prahl,  up  the  winding  stair. 

"Your  tower's  as  tall  as  Bologna's,"  said 
Hubert,  fatigued  half-way. 

Besser  stopped  for  him,  and  held  the  light 
against  the  wall,  where  a  broad  black  stroke  was 
painted. 

"  This  is  half-way.  That's  the  mark  I  painted 
years  ago,"  said  Besser,  "  to  mark  the  first  hun- 
dred and  fifty  steps.  There's  another  hundred 
and  fifty.  I  remember  counting  them  when  I 
was  quite  young." 

"  It's  hot,"  said  Hubert. 

"  What  the  devil  are  we  climbing  a  tower  at 
midnight  for,  after  a  journey  ?  This  is  the  tower 
that  Miriam  sees,"  thought  Prahl. 

They  began  to  ascend  again,  and  were  soon 
at  the  top.  It  was  a  cool  night,  and  the  moon 
was  at  three-quarters,  cloud-bound.  The  para- 
pet formed  a  circular  stone  balcony,  solidly 
built. 

"The  stars!"  said  Hubert.  "Ah,  there!— 
there's  her  window  lit !     She's  not  in  bed  !  " 


l68  THE   DESTROYER 

Mulvey  lay  below  them,  silent  and  dark,  un- 
protected on  the  flat  plain  by  any  hill. 

'* '  Cared  for  till  cockcrow,'  "  said  Besser. 

They  heard  the  carriage  which  had  brought 
them  moving  along  the  main  road. 

"  That's  her  window  in  the  eastern  gable,"  mur- 
mured Hubert  again.  "  How  dark  the  other 
windows  are  !     How  strange !  " 

"  That's  Miriam's  window.  How  strange  !  " 
mocked  Prahl  inwardly.  "  It's  the  maids  that 
have  to  sit  up  o'  nights — not  the  dames." 

Prahl  held  the  lantern  now,  and  it  cast  a  full 
light  on  the  parapet.  He  held  it  in  Hubert's 
face,  and  Hubert  started  back. 

*'  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  Prahl.  "  We're  rujn 
night  watchmen !  " 

Not  a  wind  stirred,  and  the  tower  seemed  to 
rise  out  of  the  foundations  of  the  immobile  night. 
Besser  stood  looking  eastward,  with  his  hand  on 
Hubert. 

"  Let's  go  down,"  he  said, 

"  No,  let  me  sleep  here,"  said  Hubert ;  "  it's 
warm.  I'll  make  my  bed  on  the  tower  in  sight  of 
her  window." 

Besser  motioned  to  Prahl,  and  they  took  hold 


PERTURBATION  169 

of  him.  "  Violet !  Violet !  "  he  cried,  "  they're 
keeping  me  from  you !  .  .  .  " 

He  shook  himself  off  from  them,  and  ran  to  the 
other  side  of  the  tower.  Then  he  saw  The  Gates, 
lit,  too,  and  lying  massive  and  still  on  the  out- 
skirts of  Mulvey.     He  recognized  The  Gates. 

"  Let  me  away ! "  he  cried.  "  Edgar,  it's  a 
monstrous  place  ! " 

Prahl  ran  one  way,  Besser  the  other. 

"  Oh— oh " 

His  voice  died,  echoless,  and  they  took  hold  of 
him,  and  brought  him  down  docile,  step  by  step. 
Besser  locked  the  top  door,  but  left  the  key  on 
the  inside.  Hubert  hurried  to  bed,  and  he  got 
more  sleep  than  Besser. 

Next  morning  Prahl  thought  that  that  first 
night's  labor  was  compensated  when  Besser  gave 
him  a  letter  for  the  House  of  Rimmon.  The  hop- 
pickers  were  busy  as  he  passed  through  the  green 
lanes.  The  lanes  were  still  green  because  Sum- 
mer was  not  yet  shaken  on  her  throne.  Yet  the 
bags  of  hops  carried  in  carts,  or  as  huge  burdens 
on  the  back,  the  smell  of  October  brewings  and 
the  show  of  last  season's  vats  and  mash  tuns, 
wisps  of  hay  and  barley,  and  ears  of  corn  dropped 


170  THE   DESTROYER 

from  the  wains  on  the  roadside,  gray  light  instead 
of  the  blush  light  of  June,  and  the  birds  grown 
stubborn  and  miserly  in  their  singing — all  this 
meant  that  her  kingdom  was  withering.  Another 
hand  was  busy  on  the  scored  palimpsest  of  the 
soil.  But  roses  and  clematis,  and  other  wild 
heliotropes  were  still  snug  at  their  roots,  sitting 
isolated  in  the  warm  earth,  with  a  sort  of  uncon- 
scious egoism,  as  if  they  would  never  fold  their 
petals  and  go.  For  it  was  not  cold  ;  it  was  not 
autumn.  It  was  a  sort  of  Indian  summer,  rare  at 
Mulvey.  And  yet  the  atmosphere  had  the  nega- 
tive flavor,  mildly  piquant  of  chrysanthemums, 
which  is  like  a  delicate  minor  in  the  hush  music 
of  flowers.  The  hop  clover  was  withering  to  light 
brown.  The  barley  was  lying  in  the  cisterns,  the 
malt  mill  and  mashing  machines  were  ready,  and 
the  mash  tuns  awaited  the  malt.  Sir  Saul  Rim- 
mon  had  a  small  system  of  his  own,  and  his  men 
were  busy.  Isaac  had  brewed  at  Rimmon  House 
for  twenty  years  and  more,  and  he  might  have 
been  likened  to  a  priest  of  Isis  who  taught  brew- 
ing so  long  ago  in  Egypt !  His  was  the  best 
brew  in  all  Mulvey.  He  was  turning,  with  a 
wooden  shovel,  the  barley  heap  or  couch,  as  it  is 


PERTURBATION  171 

called,  when  Prahl  came  up.  Cubitt  was  passing 
to  and  fro  from  the  kiln  where  the  grain  was  to 
be  dried.  He  was  now  standing  near  Isaac  with 
his  knuckles  on  his  haunches.  There  was  a 
musty,  half-bitter  flavor  in  the  air,  and  from  an 
adjoining  building  came  the  sound  of  a  mashing 
machine.  Isaac,  bending  over  his  work,  did  not 
hear  Prahl  addressing  him,  and  did  not  see  him. 
Cubitt  saw  and  heard,  but  stood  surveying  him 
in  the  slow  manner  of  peasants.  The  slim  Prahl, 
with  dark,  quick  eyes,  was  bearer  of  a  letter  to 
Violet.  It  was  addressed  "  Mrs.  Proudfoot."  He 
had  come  on  purpose  a  roundabout  way  to  Rim- 
mon  House,  for  he  wished  to  pass  through  the 
home  farm.  He  was  pleased  with  his  first  im- 
pressions of  Mulvey,  and  amazed  at  the  old  splen- 
dor of  Mulvey  House.  His  chief  disappointment 
consisted  in  the  fact  that  he  was  *'  keeper  of  a 
mad  gent."  But  he  was  told  that  it  would  not 
be  for  long,  and  although  he  had  let  a  word  slip 
last  night  to  Miriam,  he  determined,  since  doubt- 
less it  would  be  to  his  own  profit,  to  keep 
silence. 

"  Look  here,"  said   Prahl,  nodding  to  Cubitt, 
and  speaking  loudly  to  make  himself  heard  above 


172  THE  DESTROYER 

the  noise  of  the  mashing  machine,  "  this  is  Rim- 
mon  House?  " 

Cubitt  nodded  without  saying  anything. 
Isaac  stopped  work,  and  lifted  his  bent  back  with 
a  groan. 

"  Good-mornin',  sir  !  " 

"  Good-morning,"  said  Prahl.  "  What's  the 
soonest  way  to  the  big  house?" 

"Along  by  the  hops  where  the  wenches  are 
pullin'."     Prahl  thanked  them  and  left. 

"  Who's  that  ?  "  asked  Isaac. 

"  It'll  be  the  new  man  at  Mulvey  House,"  said 
Cubitt,  walking  back  to  the  kiln,  while  Isaac  be- 
gan to  shovel  the  couc/i  again. 

Prahl  took  the  road  that  led  to  the  hopfield, 
and  he  thought  he  espied  Miriam  among  the 
pickers.  Mother  Dagon  was  picking  beside  her, 
and  a  basket  was  between  them.  Other  pickers 
were  scattered  over  the  field.  Miriam's  head 
was  bare,  while  Mother  Dagon  wore  a  sum- 
mer hat  of  yellow  straw  with  a  broad  front. 
Miriam  was  in  a  blue  gown.  Prahl  jumped  the 
paling. 

"Who's  this?"  said  Mother  Dagon. 

"  Oh,  it's  the  new  butler  at  Mr.  Besser's.     We 


PERTURBATION  1/3 

came  in  the  train  together  last  night,"  said 
Miriam,  blushing. 

Prahl  came  up  and  lifted  his  hat. 

"  This  is  my  mother,"  said  Miriam,  smiling ; 
"  you're  early  afoot !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Prahl,  shaking  hands,  "  I've  to  go 
to  the  house." 

"  With  a  letter  from  Mr.  Edgar  maybe  ?  "  sug- 
gested Mother  Dagon.  "  It's  a  time  since  he's 
been  here.  A  fortune  could  have  been  made  in 
that  time  !  " 

Prahl  eyed  Miriam,  who  was  breaking  a  catkin, 
and  rubbing  it  between  her  fingers  to  get  the 
aromatic  scent,  till  her  hand  was  yellow  with  the 
powder. 

"  You've  a  fine  country  here,"  said  he. 

"  If  it  weren't  for  the  hop  flies,"  said  Mother 
Dagon.  "  Look  ye,  there's  one ;  she's  lost  her 
wings." 

She  seized  a  green  fly  with  long  legs  and  a 
black  head. 

"  A  fine  country  ! "  she  repeated,  "  were't  not 
for  hop  flies  and  the  fates  o'  our  betters." 

"  They  lose  their  wings  in  June,"  said  Miriam, 
looking  at  Prahl ;  "  it's  so  funny  !  " 


174  THE  DESTROYER 

"  How  are  you  f "  said  Prahl  in  an  under- 
tone. 

She  pulled  a  fiber  off  one  of  the  old  stems,  and 
wound  it  round  her  fingers. 

"They're  tough,  eh  ?  "  said  Prahl. 

"Yes,"  said  Miriam,  "we  make  cords  and 
strings  out  of  them." 

"  How's  Mr.  Edgar  ? — we  always  called  him 
that,"  continued  Mother  Dagon.  "  How's  he 
pleased  with  the  way  the  house  is  gotten  ready  ?  " 

"  All  right,"  said  Prahl. 

"  Ruth's  a  clever  woman." 

Mother  Dagon  moved  to  the  next  hop,  and 
kept  talking  as  she  picked. 

"  How  did  Mr.  Edgar  pick  j^z<!  up?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  just  like  a  hop !  "  said  Prahl,   smiling. 

"  Be  in  the  flower-houses  this  afternoon  ?  "  he 
whispered. 

"  Yes,"  said  Miriam,  as  she  pretended  to  bite 
a  hop. 

"  I'll  have  to  be  going,"  said  Prahl  aloud,  and 
he  lifted  his  hat  to  both. 

Miriam  watched  him  leap  the  paling  again,  and 
she  pulled  hops  mechanically  for  an  hour,  answer- 
ing at  random  all  her  mother's  questions. 


PERTURBATION  1/5 

"  That's  a  good-lookin'  butler,"  said  Mother 
Dagon. 

"  He's  awful  polite  and  kindly  like,"  said 
Miriam. 

Meantime  Prahl  had  found  his  way  to  Rimmon 
House.  He  asked  to  see  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  and  was 
admitted  to  the  vast  hall.  Lady  Rimmon,  whose 
cheek  was  still  fresh  although  her  hair  was  gray, 
came  to  see  him.  She  wore  a  black  morning- 
gown  without  any  ornament,  and  appeared  to  be 
in  mourning. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  to  give  this  to  Mrs.  Proudfoot." 

"  I'll  take  it,"  said  Lady  Rimmon. 

"  I  was  to  give  it  to  herself,  and  wait  an 
answer." 

"  From  whom  is  it  ?  " 

"Mr.  Besser." 

"  Oh,  he's  home !  Just  wait,"  said  Lady  Rim- 
mon as  she  went  into  a  room,  and  rang  a  bell. 

Prahl  thought  Rimmon  House  the  most  silent 
mansion  he  had  ever  seen.  The  roofs  were  ap- 
parently not  so  high  as  at  Mulvey  House,  but  the 
rooms  and  corridors  were  longer.  The  hall  win- 
dows were  of  stained  glass,  three  on  each  side  of 


1/6  THE   DESTROYER 

the  door,  and  each  consisting  of  a  panel  with  a 
medieval  knight  in  armor.  The  walls  were  cov- 
ered with  old  weapons — especially  guns  and  pol- 
ished shields.  Prahl  was  taken  into  a  morning- 
room,  paneled  in  oak  with  a  lily  and  rose  design. 
In  a  few  moments  Violet  came  in,  dressed,  like 
her  mother,  in  black.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  suffer 
from  the  light,  and  she  told  Prahl  to  pull  down  the 
blinds.  He  was  struck  by  her  demeanor  and  her 
beauty.  But  he  was  struck  by  something  else, 
"  Crickie!  "  he  thought,  "what  a  resemblance  !  " 
Violet  was  utterly  pale,  and  looked  as  if  she  had 
passed  months  in  a  sort  of  waking  dream.  She 
spoke  with  a  slight  tremor  in  her  voice. 

"  This  is  a  letter,  madam,"  said  Prahl,  and 
handed  it. 

It  ran  thus  : — 

"  Could  I  see  you  this  afternoon  at  three  ?  I  returned  last 
night.  Edgar  Besser." 

Violet  went  to  a  side-table  and  wrote  a  card. 
He  was  to  come  at  tJiree  o'clock. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  said  Prahl. 

He  took  the  direct  road  back,  because  Besser 
was  waiting  on  him  ;  but  he  would  have  liked  to 
pass  through  the  hop-fields  again  to  have  another 


PERTURBATION  177 

look  at  Miriam.  She  was  twice  as  interesting  to 
him  now.  He  knew,  however,  that  Besser  was 
waiting  for  him,  so  he  made  straight  for  Mulvey 
House. 

Meantime  Besser  was  busy  with  his  fatal  guest. 
He  had  sworn  to  do  his  duty  by  him,  and  the 
cousinship  helped  him  to  do  it. 

"Are  you  sure,"  he  asked,  "that  you  don't 
know  where  Aunt  Proudfoot  is?" 

"Would  I  tell  you  lies,  Ed?"  asked  Hubert. 
"  She's  likely  looking  for  me." 

"Where?  We  could  easily  find  out.  She  must 
have  left  an  address." 

"How  do  I  know?  She's  in  Egypt,  perhaps, 
or  anywhere  else." 

"  We'll  find  out." 

"Oh  no!" 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  I  don't  wish  to  see  any  of  them ; 
you've  brought  me  too  soon.  If  you  leave  me 
alone  I'll  try  and  think  it  all  out  and  get  recon- 
ciled I " 

"  You're  feeling  better?" 

"  Yes  ;  but,  Ed,  I  can't  see  Violet !  " 

"  Why  do  you  change  your  opinion  so  often  ? 
12 


178  THE   DESTROYER 

Last  night  you  said  we  were  keeping  you  from 
her,  Hubert !  " 

"  Oh,  Ed,  if  you  only  felt  how  I  feel !  When- 
ever I  say  that  I  want  to  see  her  dont  believe  me  !  " 
said  Hubert,  emphasizing  every  word  of  the  last 
sentence. 

"What  am  I  to  say?  Really,  Hubert,  this  is 
awful !  " 

"  Say  I'm  dead  !  "  said  Hubert,  with  a  strange 
look. 

Besser  seemed  now  taller  than  his  cousin. 
Hubert  was  shrinking  in  bulk,  but  the  animation 
of  his  face  made  him  appear  to  be  in  health. 

"  I'm  in  a  peculiar  predicament !  "  exclaimed 
Besser. 

"  Ed,"  said  Hubert,  "  it's  awful  to  feel  that  you 
belong  to  the  brutality  of  things  ! " 

"  Don't  you  see  that  the  servants  know  that 
you're  here  ?  "  said  Besser. 

Hubert  started. 

"  Tell  them  I'll  bribe  them  ;  give  them  large 
sums  to  say  nothing !  Please,  please  !  "  he  said 
earnestly. 

"  You  know  the  way  servants  gossip." 

"  Oh,  bring  them,  and  we'll  persuade  them." 


PERTURBATION  1 79 

"  I'll  try,"  said  Besser,  "  we'll  calculate  for  a 
week's  silence." 

"  Swear,  then,  Ed — swear !  " 

"What?" 

"  That  you'll  never  tell  anybody  till  I  ask  you." 

"  Don't  you  see  you'll  be  noticed  in  the 
grounds?" 

"  I'll  stay  in.  It  won't  be  for  long.  Perhaps 
I'll  face  it  in  a  month,"  he  said,  holding  his  head, 
and  looking  like  a  cowed  thing  before  his  friend. 

"  I  swear  for  your  sake,"  said  Besser,  perturbed, 
"  but  can  guarantee  nothing.  It's  the  strangest 
situation  !  " 

"  Swear  on  something,"  persisted  Hubert. 

"  Here  on  my  old  beads,"  said  Besser,  taking 
the  string  from  his  pocket. 

"  No,  no,  you  don't  believe  in  them  !  "  exclaimed 
Hubert. 

"  I  do,"  said  Besser. 

"  Edgar,  I'll  recompense  you." 

"  Recompense  !  "  repeated  Besser. 

"  Are  you  going  over  to  see  her  to-day  ? " 
asked  Hubert  excitedly. 

"  Yes." 

**  Oh,  I'll  watch  you  from  the  tower!  " 


l8o  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Hubert !  "  exclaimed  Besser,  "  you  must  obey 
Prahl  or  I'll  abandon  you." 

"  I'll  obey  Prahl,"  said  Hubert,  while  Prahl  took 
him  to  his  room. 

As  he  went  over  to  Rimmon  House  in  the 
afternoon,  Besser  wondered  what  he  would  find  to 
say.  He  saw  that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  the 
secret  to  be  long  kept.  He  put  little  faith  in  the 
word  of  servants.  It  was  too  curious  a  pledge. 
Doubtless,  Hubert's  horror  of  being  discovered 
was  perfectly  genuine,  since  it  often  happened  in 
the  case  of  those  who  were  mentally  alienated. 
But  how  long  might  it  continue  ?  And  if,  by  mere 
accident,  the  truth  came  out,  and  the  excitement 
and  alarm  of  reappearing  among  his  friends  ag- 
gravated his  malady,  Besser  felt  that  in  someway 
he  would  be  responsible.  Hubert  suffered,  evi- 
dently, from  two  great  fears.  He  had  a  terror  of 
The  Gates,  and  he  prayed  his  cousin  to  keep  him 
safe  ;  and  he  had,  besides,  a  fixed  desire,  broken 
now  and  again  by  fits  of  jealousy,  to  avoid  his 
wife.  It  was  a  situation  beset  by  a  hundred  ac- 
cidents. Besser  wrote  to  the  Abate  di  Negri  asking 
advice.  He  also  wrote  to  his  aunt's  lawyers,  and 
awaited  news  of  her  return.     Meantime,  he  went 


PERTURBATION  l8l 

over  to  Rimmon  House  to  make  inquiries.  But  at 
first  his  difficulties  seemed  to  increase.  He  saw 
Lady  Rimmon,  and  she  told  him  that  they  were  all 
persuaded  that  Hubert  was  dead. 

"You  see  we  are  in  mourning,"  she  said,  after 
having  expressed  surprise  at  Besser's  sudden  re- 
turn. "  And  although  it  seems  a  strange  thing 
to  say,  it  is  a  mercy  !  You  know  that  it  would 
kill  Violet  to  hear  that  he  was  alive.  She  is  very 
ill,  but  resigned.  We  had  a  letter  from  his 
wretched  mother,  who  is  in  Corsica.  She  thinks 
she  has  discovered  his  grave,  in  the  very  wildest 
parts.  The  man  who  was  his  guide  took  her 
to  what  they  think  is  his  grave.  It  seems  he 
died  there  quite  suddenly.  ...  He  was  fond  of 
Corsica." 

"  Really?"  said  Besser.  "  These  Corsicans 
are  a  wild  lot.  They  might  say  anything,  you 
know,  especially  if  they  knew  she  was  looking 
for  her  son,  and  had  said  that  she  was  ex- 
pecting to  find  him  dead.  I've  read  lots  about 
them." 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  "  it's  a  Provi- 
dence !  I  knew  that  his  mother  would  bring  home 
either  his  corpse  or  a  bit  of  his  grave.  .  .  .  You 


l82  THE   DESTROYER 

know  I  was  against  it  from  the  first.  There  is 
insanity  in  the  whole  family." 

"  But  why  do  you  think  it  would  harm  her  if 
she  knew  he  was  alive  ?  " 

"  The  doctor  says  so,  and  that  it  would  harm 
him,  you  know.  The  same  thing  would  happen. 
Oh,  the  disgrace,  Edgar!  ...  I  call  you  Edgar 
like  long  ago.  .  .  .  No,  it  is  better  so.  And  yet 
I  tremble  for  every  footstep  in  the  avenue,  think- 
ing it  might  be  Hubert  walking  up !  Violet  is 
really  ill.  She  doesn't  get  sleep,  although  I've 
made  her  a  pillow  of  the  new  hops." 

"  Yes,"  said  Besser.  "  My  mother  used  to  make 
me  one.     It  sends  you  to  sleep." 

"  Now,  if  you  see  Violet — I  think  she  is  coming 
down — never  mention  his  name,"  said  Lady 
Rimmon. 

"  What  does  Sir  Saul  say } "  asked  Besser. 
•*  Could  I  see  him  ?  " 

"  You  needn't  speak  to  him,''  said  Lady  Rimmon, 
agitated.  "  I  know  you  liked  your  cousin,  but  he 
hates  the  name  of  him.  He's  preparing  for  a 
voyage.  He's  been  angry  for  months  all  over 
Violet.  I  feel  the  need  of  my  brother  to  guide 
us  all '' 


PERTURBATION  1 83 

"  Ah,  I  heard  !  "  said  Besser. 

Lady  Rimmon  lifted  her  eyes  now  and  again 
to  look  at  Besser.  She  questioned  him  on  his 
abandonment  of  the  priesthood. 

"  We  were  not  surprised,"  she  said,  "  You're 
too — shall  I  say  ? — ^you're  too  independent." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  I  was  losing  myself,"  said 
Besser.     "  That's  all." 

She  looked  closely  at  him,  and  noticed  how  he 
had  developed.  She  was  thinking  that  if  he  had 
given  up  the  priesthood  a  little  earlier  the  fortunes 
of  the  House  of  Rimmon  need  not  have  fallen  so 
low.  Besser  sat  with  a  concentrated  expression 
as  if  he  had  a  great  deal  to  think  about.  "  His 
head,"  Violet  had  written  long  ago,  "  is  one  of 
those  that  shine."  It  was  his  eyes,  of  course, 
that  gave  that  feeling  of  illumination.  He  had 
the  glow,  too,  of  perfect  health.  His  features 
were  settling  into  their  final  form,  but  a  look  of 
curbed  impatience  saved  their  mobility. 

"  If  he  had  been  as  healthy  as  you  !  "  exclaimed 
Lady  Rimmon. 

"  Oh,  I'm  all  right,"  said  Besser,  smiling. 

"  I  must  keep  gay,  you  know,  for  Violet's  sake. 
Half  a  year  will  bring  her  back  again.     I  some- 


1 84  THE  DESTROYER 

times  try  to  make  her  laugh,  and  poke  her  with 
my  fan.  If  her  father  would  only  leave  her  alone. 
Now,  just  wait,  and  I'll  see  if  she  would  come.  I 
think  summer  will  never  end  this  year,  it's  so 
warm,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  as  she  went  out  of 
the  room. 

During  the  quarter  of  an  hour  that  elapsed 
Besser  thought  himself  the  most  unenviable  being 
alive.  What  could  he  say  ?  The  door  opened, 
and  he  rose.  She  came  in  with  a  slight  smile — 
'•The  very  first,"  as  her  mother  said,  "  I  have 
noticed  since  May."  Besser  shook  hands,  saying 
nothing,  but  with  a  look  of  inquiry  and  surprise. 
Lady  Rimmon  left  them. 

"  Four  rapid  years  do  make  a  difference,  don't 
they  ?  "  said  Violet,  in  the  quietest  voice  Besser 
had  ever  heard. 

His  face  was  still  full  of  inquiry  and  surprise, 
as  if  looks,  not  words,  were  to  put  all  the  ques- 
tions. It  was  the  first  time  he  had  felt  le  frisson 
tragique  de  la  beautL  At  first  they  talked  common 
things,  and  he  put  scout  questions.  Yet  he 
wished  to  be  silent.  All  the  common  questions 
were  interlaced  and  divided  by  great  spaces  of 
thought  and  imagination  behind  the  creaking  veil 


PERTURBATION  185 

of  words.  He  never  knew  till  then  that  the  mean- 
ing of  years  of  a  life  may  be  discovered  in  a  flash. 
Some  slow  feeling  of  the  irreparable,  of  destinies 
fixed  and  unalterable,  came  offering  itself.  He 
wished  to  know  his  relation  to  it.  It  was  perhaps 
the  first  time  he  was  brought  face  to  face  with  a 
reality.  All  else  was  phantasmagoric — his  past 
life,  the  spires  of  Oxford,  Siena  and  its  towers — 
even  the  long  inner  trouble  of  his  impassioned 
nature.  Everything  seemed  mist  and  unreality. 
The  one  moment  of  perturbing  insight  which 
lifted  the  veil  on  the  future  and  showed  it  busy 
had  come.  "  And  this  is  he,"  thought  Violet,  "  of 
whom  my  book  is  full !  "  He  looked  at  her  per- 
fect Greek  features,  tranquilized  by  long  grief,  and 
shadowed  by  the  unruly  mass  of  her  hair. 

"  You  are  glad  to  be  home  ?  "  she  asked,  raising 
her  eyes  and  eyebrows,  and  leaving  her  mouth 
slightly  open  when  the  question  was  finished. 

"  Yes  and  no  !  "  he  said. 

"  I  always  said  you  would  give  it  up,  you  know," 
she  continued,  in  a  voice  that  became  fuller  in 
tone. 

"  I'm  not  ashamed.  Feeling  must  get  its  inn- 
ings, mustn't  it,  even  though  they  are  to  be  short  ?" 


l86  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  that's  quite  a  modern  view. 
I  agree  with  you.  Yet  some  people  would  think 
you  shallow  because  you  passed  rapidly  from 
state  to  state.  I  don't.  The  modern  mind  is 
essentially  a  sieve,  and  must  pass  hundreds  of 
things  through  it.     And  now ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Parliament,  of  course.  That  would  be  good, 
because  now  you  know  all  men's  sins  !  " 

"  Well,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  it  is  true  that  the 
most  exciting  drama  in  the  world  is  the  weird 
tHe-h-tHe  of  a  confession." 

"  Oh,  you  speak  like  that !  I  try  to  write  like 
that,"  she  said.  "  I'm  almost  afraid  of  you  now, 
you  must  know  so  much  about  us.  I  have  suf- 
fered." 

As  on  the  previous  day  she  was  utterly 
pale. 

"  I  hope  you  are  better,"  he  said. 

"  We  can  speak,  can't  we  ?  "  she  asked.  "  We 
are  more  nearly  related  than  we  used  to  be.  I 
am  a  sort  of  cousin  to  you  now." 

"Yes." 

"  Though  the  link's  broken.  .  .  .  We  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  Hubert  is  dead.  .  .  . 


PERTURBATION  187 

We  are  waiting  on  my  mother-in-law's  return," 
she  said,  with  her  voice  faltering  again. 

Besser  shuffled. 

"  I  admit,"  she  continued,  "  that  Fate  has  at  last 
been  kind.  We  never  could  have  met  again. 
Never !  It  would  have  killed  him,  poor  boy — 
and  me  ! " 

Besser  asked  her  how  she  knew,  and  she  an- 
swered she  knew.  He  suppressed  as  well  as  he 
could  the  gesture  of  his  wonder  and  pain.  "  It  is 
perfectly  monstrous,"  he  thought,  "  that  she  is  so 
chained,  and  does  not  know  it  ?  "  He  tried  hard 
to  accept  and  understand  this  pungency  of  their 
destiny.  Perhaps  they  divined  each  other's 
thoughts,  but  he  knew  what  she  could  not  know, 
and  she  would  guess  as  yet  in  vain.  One  thing 
he  did  feel,  that  his  heart's  own  rue  seemed  to 
climb  up  like  a  hush  midnight  burglar  unresisted. 

"  I'm  not  so  old  as  you,"  she  said,  "  but,  per- 
haps, I  know  more !  " 

"  Know  more !  " 

The  afternoon  seemed  to  have  brought  to  him 
something  utterly  new,  as  yet  uncomprehended. 
He  had  heard  numerous  confessions,  but  it  was 
the  first  time  that  a  soul  seemed  to  lay  itself  bare 


1 88  THE  DESTROYER 

before  him,  and  he  was  dazed  with  compas- 
sion. 

"  Hubert  is  dead,  I  believe,"  she  said.  "  It's 
over." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  is  dead,''  said  Besser,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  strange  sickness. 

"  I  didn't  know  he  was  dead  when  I  married 
him." 

"  That's  what  I  mean,"  he  said  hurriedly. 

He  began  to  feel  the  strain  of  the  conversation, 
and  he  rose.     Lady  Rimmon  was  in  the  hall. 

"  I  must  go,"  he  said. 

"  This  is  Father  Confessor,"  said  Violet. 

"  You're  the  first  that  has  made  her  smile,"  said 
Lady  Rimmon.  "  We  shall  come  over  to  see  you 
soon.  I  used  to  promise  your  mother  to  look 
after  you." 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    DOPPELGANGER 

After  Besser  had  seen  Violet  he  cautioned 
Prahl  to  watch  Hubert  closely,  and  he  shut  him- 
self in  his  own  room  that  night.  He  thought  over 
all  that  Violet  had  said,  and  he  wondered  whether 
it  was  not  his  duty  to  announce  Hubert's  actual 
presence  in  Mulvey.  After  all,  was  it  his  busi- 
ness whether  both  of  them  could  stand  the  shock  ? 
Sooner  or  later  the  news  must  spread,  and  the 
delay  might  aggravate  its  terror.  He  could  not 
guarantee  his  servants'  fidelity.  It  seemed  ridic- 
ulous to  expect  it.  He  saw  that  Violet  lived  in 
the  assurance  of  Hubert's  final  release  from  all 
suffering,  and  she  said  frankly  that  it  was  better 
he  was  dead.  On  the  other  hand,  Hubert, 
throughout  a  whole  variety  of  moods,  seemed  to 
preserve  fixed  his  hesitation  and  fear  of  reunion 
with  his  wife.     If  Besser  hurried  it,  he  might  only 

be  hurrying  a  double  catastrophe.     Yet  the  ex- 

189 


IQO  THE   DESTROYER 

citement  of  the  delay,  heightened  as  it  was  by 
contiguity,  might  have  the  same  result  for  Hubert. 
Indeed,  Hubert  was  under  the  belief  that  he 
would  be  able  to  watch  from  the  tower  every- 
thing that  Violet  did.  Besser  was  troubled  by 
the  variety  of  accidents  that  might  any  day  occur. 
He  urged  Prahl  to  be  faithful,  and  promised  a  re- 
ward. He  took  him  completely  into  his  confi- 
dence, so  that  Prahl  soon  began  to  dominate  the 
rest  of  the  household,  and  to  hold  up  the  terrors 
of  banishment  to  any  who  had  even  a  longing  to 
betray  the  news  that  Mr.  Hubert  Proudfoot  was 
in  Mulvey.  Prahl  had  seen  many  a  thing,  and 
entered  with  something  like  a  detective's  enthu- 
siasm into  his  master's  plan.  The  comedy  would 
help  to  enliven  Mulvey.  His  arrogant,  though 
menial,  nature  soon  subdued  Hubert,  who  began 
to  complain  that  he  was  afraid  of  him.  At  this 
Besser  was  pleased,  because  it  meant  that  Hubert 
was  safe.  Yet  there  was  many  a  danger,  and 
Lady  Rimmon's  proposed  visit  was  not  the  least. 
He  put  it  off,  saying  that  his  house  was  not  yet 
in  order,  and  would  not  be  for  a  month.  After 
he  had  seen  Violet  he  had  gone  privately  to  Dr. 
Bede  and  astonished  him  with  the  news.     He 


THE   DOPPELGANGER  I9I 

told  him  that  Hubert  had  refused  to  see  either 
Violet  or  him,  and  that  it  would  be  quite  impos- 
sible to  pay  a  visit.  Hubert's  fear  of  The  Gates 
formed  a  strong  motive  in  a  desire  to  escape 
which  often  overtook  him.  Bede  said  he  under- 
stood it  all,  and  advised  absolute  silence  on  the 
whole  matter.  It  was,  in  any  case,  impossible 
for  Violet  to  see  him  in  the  meantime.  "  Even 
if,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  had  him  here,  I  would 
never  let  her  know,  and  from  what  you  tell  me 
about  him  he  has  got  the  horror  fetnince,  which 
sometimes  accompanies  his  trouble.  It  would  be 
criminal  to  bring  them  together.  I  am  sorry. 
We  had  been  hoping  she  was  free.  Her  mother 
is  anxious  to  see  her  married.  You  can  hardly 
imagine  her  suffering,  and  I  doubt — I  doubt  if 
she  will  come  out  of  it.'' 

"What  am  I  to  do  ?"  asked  Besser. 

"  Keep  him  quiet.  Give  me  all  his  symptoms. 
Doubtless  he  remembers  me.  If  he  gets  worse 
we  must  take  him  back,  but  meantime  I  will  send 
some  one  to  examine  him  whom  he  does  not 
know,  and  who  will  do  it  disguisedly." 

"  And  they  think  he  is  dead ! "  exclaimed 
Besser. 


192  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Let  them  think  so.  I  don't  think  he  will  last 
long  in  any  case,  and  may  die  in  your  hands." 

"  That  would  be  awful !  "  said  Besser.  "  They 
would  never  forgive  me." 

"  Oh  yes,  they  would,  when  they  know,"  said 
Bede.  "  This  will  try  your  metal,  and  your  serv- 
ants' metal." 

"  They  !  "  exclaimed  Besser.  "  How  could  I 
trust  them  long?" 

"  I  see  nothing  for  it  but  to  wait,"  said  Bede. 
"  The  fact  is,  I  am  hoping  that  somehow  Violet 
might  get  a  divorce." 

"  He  wishes  to  release  her,"  said  Besser. 

"  Does  he  really  ?  "  asked  Bede,  surprised. 

"  Sometimes  only,"  said  Besser. 

"  I  could  give  a  certificate  that  he  was  really 
insane  when  he  married  her.  We  shall  see,"  re- 
plied Bede,  and  shook  hands.     "  That's  good  !  " 

Besser  went  home,  and  the  silence  of  his  house 
was  oppressive.  He  gave  orders  that  no  other 
rooms  were  to  be  thrown  open,  for  he  had  a  feel- 
ing that  his  stay  would  be  short.  The  huge 
dining-room  was  left  dark,  and  its  great  curtains 
swayed  in  the  gloom,  when  the  wind  passed 
through  the  windows  opened  for  air.     But  a  fire 


THE   DOPPELGANGER  I93 

was  lit  in  the  library,  and  he  spent  half  the  day 
looking  through  old  books.  He  felt  the  useless- 
ness  of  his  possessions.  They  were  irrelevant  to 
his  asceticism.  They  almost  seemed  impious 
after  his  vows.  He  had  often  felt  ashamed  of 
his  wealth  when  he  rubbed  shoulders  with  a  poor 
man.  His  previous  life  seemed  to  have  made  it 
superfluous.  He  would  always  have  a  spiritual 
irritant  in  his  composition  which  would  interfere 
with  his  perfect  pleasure  in  the  world.  He  felt 
there  was  nothing  stable,  and  that  everything 
was  passing.  "  Great  wealth — ah  !  great  vul- 
garity," he  once  wrote  ;  "  I  have  seen  poor  people 
look  magnificent." 

He  thought  of  Monte  Oliveto  when  he  saw  his 
monk's  robe  and  hat  lying  outside  his  packing- 
boxes.  Ruth  had  laid  them  on  the  bed.  He 
took  them  up  with  a  smile.  All  that  night  he 
was  trying  to  banish  a  thought  which  came  ob- 
trusively back.  A  whole  multitude  of  vague 
feelings  and  surprises  had  awakened  within  him. 
With  some  bitterness  he  said  that  the  situation 
in  which  he  was  placed  might  afford  material  for 
a  vulgar  novelist.     "  Think,"  he   said,    "  of  the 

sensational  incidents  he  could  discover  among  us. 
»3 


194  THE  DESTROYER 

She  is  over  there,  I  am  over  here,  and  she  does 
not  know  who  is  with  me.  Think  of  what  he 
would  make  of  the  runnings  back  and  forwards, 
the  hairbreadth  escapes,  the  intrigue,  the  mid- 
night cUmax,  and  so  forth.     Yes,  if  I  were  weak 

They  wish   us  to  go  wrong ;    it    is   their 

trade." 

He  made  a  long  pause.  "  //"  /  were  weak  !  " 
The  cast-ofT  garments  of  his  monkhood  seemed 
to  convict  him.  He  had  lived  more  in  that 
single  day  than  he  had  done  in  years.  It  looked 
like  a  conspiracy  of  the  Invisible  to  mock  and 
try  him.  He  had  invited  it.  He  had  said  he 
knew  the  power  that  decimated  some  men,  and 
wished  to  fight  it.  He  had  sat  long  at  the  confes- 
sion, and  had  heard  the  endless  old  saga  of  the 
human  soul.  The  universe  had  become  for  him 
a  great  liturgy,  old  miracle  play  !  He  had  dried 
the  tears  of  hundreds  unknown.  He  knew  chords 
and  sorrows,  but  now  they  were  going  to  bind 
himself. 

"And  it'll  be  for  *auld  land  syne,'  as  the 
Scotch  say,"  he  said,  "  that  I'll  put  these  on." 

He  put  on  his  monk's  robe,  smiling  at  his 
"  folly."     He  hung  his  crucifix   above    his   bed, 


THE   DOPPELGANGER  I95 

and  he  laid  on  his  table  his  old  "  Book  of  Hours." 
It  looked  as  if  he  wished  to  rediscover  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  monkhood,  or  it  looked  like  the 
tuning  of  weapons  for  a  great  fight. 

"  Oh ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  Hubert  came  burst- 
ing in. 

"  O  Lord !  Edgar,"  said  Hubert,  "  I  thought 
you  weren't  a  monk  any  more." 

"  Neither  I  am,"  said  Besser. 

"Well?" 

"Well!" 

"Why  didn't  you  come,"  asked  Hubert  ex- 
citedly, "  to  tell  me  what  Violet  said?  I've  been 
kept  chained  like  a  dog  by  that  brute,  Prahl. 
Edgar,  I  won't  stand  it!     How's  Violet?" 

"  She's  not  well,"  said  Besser. 

"  Edgar,"  said  Hubert,  looking  at  him  fixedly, 
"  you're  quite  changed.  Something  has  hap- 
pened.    I  know  !     I  see !  " 

"  What  do  you  see  ?  Quieten  yourself,  else  it 
will  be  all  the  longer  till  you  see  Aer." 

"  O  God,  you're  jealous !  You — you  love  her, 
/  believe.  Here,  here,  let  me  see  your  lips!" 
cried  Hubert  in  a  frenzy  of  blind  passion. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Hubert?" 


196  THE   DESTROYER 

"I  mean,"  said  Hubert,  "that  I  know  what 
you  are  feehng.  I  see  it  in  your  face.  You  wish 
me  dead  !     You've  kissed  her !  " 

"  Kissed  her  !  " 

"  Or  wanted  to.  You're  utterly  different  from 
what  you  were  in  the  morning." 

"  Hubert,  you  told  me  you  wanted  to  give  her 
up  and  release  her." 

"  Hear  him  !  "  exclaimed  Hubert. 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me.     I'm " 

"  Oh,  I  am  ill — very  ill !  "  exclaimed  Hubert, 
as  he  abruptly  left  the  room,  while  Besser  fol- 
lowed him. 

Prahl  complained  that  he  was  becoming  more 
unmanageable.  It  was  almost  impossible  to 
pacify  him  that  night,  till  Besser  threatened  to 
send  for  Violet  or  Dr.  Bede.  And  then  he  became 
silent  and  went  sobbing  to  bed. 

"  No,  Ed,  I  do7z'i  wish  to  see  her,"  he  urged. 

"  Nor  I !  "  exclaimed  Besser,  as  he  went  away 
sick  at  heart. 

The  events  of  the  next  few  days  resembled,  as 
he  said,  the  incidents  of  a  third-rate  stage.  Prahl, 
as  we  know,  took  every  opportunity  of  seeing 
Miriam,  but  as  Miriam  did  not  wish  him  to  be 


THE   DOPPELGANGER  I97 

seen  at  the  home  farm,  it  was  necessary  for  her 
to  come  over  to  Mulvey  House.  Prahl's  sharp 
eyes  saw  the  truth  at  a  glance.  He  had  been 
making  inquiries  about  Miriam,  and  dropping 
hints  as  to  her  parentage.  As  yet  he  had  said 
nothing  to  Miriam.  Perhaps  she  knew,  because 
her  manner  seemed  to  indicate  that  she  expected 
better  fortunes  than  what  a  peasant  husband 
could  bring  her.  But  it  was  just  about  that  time 
that  all  Mulvey  became  roused.  A  new  Dissent- 
ing preacher  called  Mabb  had  been  installed,  and, 
as  he  was  a  person  of  intense  and  sincere  convic- 
tions, he  was  becoming  a  thorn  in  the  baronet's 
side.  For  he  had  heard  the  gossip  that  had 
turned  old  in  the  women's  mouths,  and  he  began 
to  preach  on  the  sins  of  those  in  high  places. 
Sir  Saul  openly  expressed  contempt  for  the  orator, 
but  it  was  obvious  that  he  was  uneasy.  The 
denunciations  became  less  vague,  and  the  district 
was  being  prevailed  upon  to  rouse  itself  up. 
Mabb  called  upon  all  those  who  were  in  the  service 
of  sinners  to  give  up  their  places  and  seek  honest 
masters.  Old  Isaac  belonged  to  Mabb's  flock, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  trouble  was  brewing.  It  did 
not  save  Sir  Saul  that  Besser  was   likewise    at- 


198  THE  DESTROYER 

tacked,  though  on  different  grounds.  Mabb,  with 
apparent  reference  to  the  owner  of  Mulvey  House, 
warned  his  congregation  against  "  monkish  pro- 
pensities." But  it  became  clear  that  his  main 
battle  was  directed  against  the  House  of  Rimmon. 
Mother  Dagon  went  seldom  to  chapel.  It  was 
in  vain  that  Lady  Rimmon  invited  the  clergyman 
to  dinner.  But  he  visited  the  home  farm, 
although  Mother  Dagon  was  generally  fortunate 
enough  to  elude  him.  It  was  whispered  that  Sir 
Saul's  prospective  voyage  was  due  to  these  at- 
tacks. Meantime  this  turn  of  events  suited 
Prahl's  nimble  wits.  He  guessed  that  the  baronet 
would  be  pleased  if  some  one  would  take  Miriam 
out  of  sight. 

"  D'you  know,"  he  said  to  Miriam,  "  that  you're 
a  Doppelgdnger  ?  " 

"  What's  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  means  that  you're  the  double  of  some 
other  body,  that  you  might  pass  for  her,  eh  ?  " 
said  Prahl,  slyly  nudging  her  elbow  and  smiling. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  blushing. 

"  You  know  it  ?  " 

"  Almost  everybody  does,"  she  replied. 

"  There's  a  row  coming  on,"  said  Prahl. 


THE  DOPPELGANGER  I99 

'*  You  mean  through  Mabb?'* 

"  Yes." 

"  My  mother  is  frightened  out  of  her  wits. 
I've  had  an  awful  strange  time  and  a  funny 
childhood.  I  felt  there  was  something  wrong 
long  ago,  but  didn't  know  what,  till  I  saw  people 
smiling  and  winking.  And  that's  all  they've  been 
doing  for  years." 

"  How  does  old  Isaac  treat  you  ?  "  asked  Prahl. 

"  Oh,  he  sometimes  looks  hard  at  me,  and  once 
took  my  face  in  his  great  rough  hands,  and 
wouldn't  let  me  go.  Often  he's  silent  for  days, 
and  often  puts  strange  questions  when  he's  blink- 
ing at  the  fireside.  But  he's  getting  blind.  I 
think  my  mother'll  drown  herself.  I  believe 
Cubitt  knows  it,  but  never  says  anything.  Every- 
body's frightened  to  lose  his  place." 

"  Cubitt !  "  repeated  Prahl  in  derision, 

"  Oh,  well,  Cubitt !  "  said  Miriam,  smiling  ro- 
guishly ;  "  he's  an  honest  lad,  but " 

Prahl  chuckled  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"  Has  Sir  Saul  ever  spoken  to  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh  yes,  but  nothing  direct,"  said  Miriam. 
"  I  hardly  see  him  now.  I  used  to  meet  him  in 
the  woods.     The  woods  were  my  nursery." 


200  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Does  he  know  about  Cubitt  and  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Miriam,  "  but  he  wasn't  pleased. 
It  was  just  when  Cubitt  and  me  were  babies  that 
we  loved  each  other." 

Her  dark  eyes  shone  on  Prahl,  and  meant  that 
it  was  all  different  now. 

"  Now,  Liebchen  ?  "  said  he. 

"  What's  that?  "  asked  Miriam,  laughing,  "  are 
you  calling  me  names?" 

"  It's  just  a  word  for  dearie,"  said  he.  "  What 
does  Miss  Violet  say?  " 

"  I'm  not  so  like  as  I  used  to  be,"  replied 
Miriam,  "  and  the  place  is  quietening  down  about 
it,  if  it  weren't  for  Mabb.  She's  ill,  poor  thing ! 
and  I've  always  avoided  her.  Her  chap  went  mad 
the  first  night,  they  say.  They  put  him  in 
The  Gates,  but  he  escaped,  and  they  say  he's 
dead " 

Prahl  was  tempted  to  betray  the  great  secret, 
but  he  resisted. 

"  Lady  Rimmon's  so  tarty,"  said  Miriam. 

"  Wait,"  said  Prahl,  "  we'll  arrange  it  all !  " 

They  were  at  the  cross-roads,  about  a  mile  from 
Rimmon  House,  where  the  stone  cross,  half  cov- 
ered by  velvet  of  moss,  stretches  its  old  arms. 


THE  DOPPELGANGER  20I 

They  were  saying  good-by,  because  it  was  time 
to  go  back. 

"  Will  you  come  over  ?  "  said  Prahl. 

"  What  time  ?  "  said  she. 

"  About  six  to-night." 

"  I  might  be  seen." 

"  No ;  come  in  by  the  south  gate,  where  I'll  go 
among  the  bushes  yonder.  It'll  be  getting  dark 
about  six." 

"  All  right,"  said  Miriam,  and  let  him  kiss  her. 

She  came  before  six,  and  he  was  waiting  to 
receive  her  in  the  twilight.  Only  one  person  saw 
them — not  Besser,  who  was  in  his  library,  but 
Hubert  on  the  tower.  He  had  bribed  Prahl  to 
get  the  key,  and  was  often  on  the  outlook  sur- 
veying Mulvey.  He  knew  how  to  conceal  him- 
self below  the  balustrade  if  Besser  happened  to 
be  walking  in  the  garden.  He  used  to  stand  for 
hours  gazing  at  the  old  House  of  Rimmon,  half 
tempted  to  shout  across  to  it.  Sometimes  he  saw 
a  slim  figure  on  the  lawn,  doubtless  Violet,  and 
he  had  a  maniacal  desire  to  wave  a  handkerchief. 
Sometimes  she  walked  along  the  terrace  of  her 
window,  and  he  used  to  shed  tears  on  the  tower 
as  he  saw  her  come  and  go.     Yet,  although  he 


202  THE   DESTROYER 

was  brooding  over  all  sorts  of  projects  for  meet- 
ing her,  he  always  shrank  back  in  the  end,  afraid. 
Bede  pointed  out  to  Besser  that  whereas  a  casual 
onlooker  might  detect  little  that  was  abnormal  in 
Hubert's  reasoning,  a  skilled  observer  would  see 
that  there  was  one  topic  on  which  his  brain 
seemed  always  to  go  astray.  At  the  thought  of 
his  relationship  to  Violet  he  became  generally 
uncontrollable.  But  he  seemed  to  be  waiting  for 
some  opportunity,  with  the  unwearied  patience 
of  a  cat  waiting  for  its  prey.  He  sat  on  the 
tower  behind  the  balustrade  taking  the  air,  while 
the  sun  was  streaming  into  Mulvey,  and  the 
smoke  of  the  village  was  curling  up.  The  land- 
scape was  perfectly  still  except  for  the  intermit- 
tent noise  of  the  railway  station  five  miles  off. 
The  tower  commanded  a  view  of  all  the  gates  of 
Mulvey  House.  The  grounds  were  not  so  exten- 
sive as  Sir  Saul  Rimmon's.  There  were  fewer 
trees.  A  serpentine  avenue  joined  the  three 
gates,  and  the  house  stood  on  a  high  level  in  the 
midst.  Hubert  crept  to  the  south  side  of  the 
tower,  when  he  heard  the  click  of  the  gate.  He 
saw  Prahl  shut  it  after  a  girl  had  come  in — a  girl 
dressed  in  black,  whom  he  immediately  supposed 


THE   DOPPELGANGER  203 

to  be  Violet.  Every  woman  he  saw  he  ex- 
pected to  be  Violet.  He  watched  them  kiss  each 
other,  and  then  go  behind  the  trees.  They 
emerged  again  into  one  of  the  side  paths  which 
ran  parallel  with  the  wall.  He  was  sure  it  was 
Violet.  It  was  growing  dusk,  which  maddened 
him  the  more.  What  could  Violet  have  to  do 
with  Prahl?  He  strained  his  eyes  in  the  direc- 
tion they  walked.  He  was  trying,  in  the  con- 
fusion of  his  suppressed  fury,  to  discover  what  it 
meant.  He  saw  them  walk  back  again  along  the 
path.  A  bell  rang — Besser's  bell — and  Prahl 
hastily  left  Miriam,  with  gestures,  and  ran  up  the 
south  avenue.  Hubert  hastened  down  the  tower, 
and  ran  unobserved  out  towards  Miriam.  He 
surprised  her  among  the  trees,  and  seized  her, 
crying  "  Violet !  "  She  shrieked,  but  he  embraced 
her  in  tears,  asking  forgiveness. 

"  O— oh,  Violet,  it  is  you  !  " 

"  Help!  "  cried  Miriam. 

Their  voices  were  heard  in  the  house,  and  Besser 
and  Prahl  came  running  down. 

"  Good  God ! "  said  Besser,  "  you've  let  him 
escape !  " 

Prahl  rushed  into  the  brushwood   and  struck 


204  THE   DESTROYER 

him  off,  releasing  Miriam,  who  had  almost  been 
suffocated. 

"  After  him  !  "  cried  Besser. 

Hubert  was  scrambling  among  the  bushes,  and 
making  towards  the  wall  as  if  to  climb  it  and 
jump.  Prahl  caught  him  in  time,  however,  and 
threw  him  among  the  bushes,  while  he  cried 
"  Violet !     Is  she  not  mine  ?  " 

Then  Besser  ordered  them  to  return  to  the 
house. 


CHAPTER  V 

DREAMS 

The  newest  anxiety  was  lest  Miriam  might 
reveal  what  she  knew.  She  had  recognized 
Hubert,  and  was  suffering  from  the  fright.  Besser 
tried  to  coax  her,  while  Prahl  was  locking  Hubert 
in  and  maltreating  him.  "  I  knew,"  thought  Bes- 
ser, "  that  the  whole  thing  would  tumble  dowu 
like  a  house  of  cards ! "  But  he  won  a  promise 
from  Miriam,  whose  resemblance  to  Violet  sick- 
ened him.  He  asked  her  what  she  was  doing  in 
the  garden,  and  when  she  told  him,  he  was  sur- 
prised that  Prahl  had  made  her  acquaintance  so 
soon.  She  undertook  to  tell  no  one  what  she 
had  seen.     He  explained  the  situation  frankly. 

"  You  observe,"  he  said, "  that  he  is  not  respon- 
sible. By  a  most  fortunate  chance  we  picked 
him  up  in  Paris,  and  we  are  keeping  him  till  he 
gets  better.     But  he  will  not  get  better  unless  he 

is  kept  quiet.     I  appeal  to  your  sense  of  honor." 

205 


206  THE  DESTROYER 

Miriam  curtsied  and  left.  Prahl  was  waiting 
for  her. 

"  O  Mir,"  said  he,  "  for  any  sake  say  nothing  to 
any  one !  It'll  cost  me  my  place !  I  shouldn't 
have  left  that  devil  and  come  to  you.  What  was 
Mr.  Besser  saying?" 

"  He  just  patted  me  on  the  back,  and  told  me 
to  be  quiet." 

"  All  right,"  said  Prahl,  **  I've  given  the  other 
one  a  slapping  for  touching  j/ou  !  " 

"  What  a  man  !  "  exclaimed  Mir.  "  He  knew 
me." 

"  What  did  he  do  ?  "  asked  Prahl. 

"  Oh  gracious,  he  kissed  me  !  " 

"  Kissed  you  !     I'll  %vhip  him." 

"  He  makes  me  shudder,"  said  Miriam.  "  I'll 
never  come  over  again.  Mr.  Besser  says  I 
mustn't." 

They  said  good-night  at  the  gate,  and  Prahl 
returned  to  punish  Hubert.  Besser  blamed  him 
for  negligence,  and  seemed  to  have  lost  con- 
fidence. Prahl  was  crestfallen,  and  blamed 
everything  on  Hubert.  In  vain  Hubert  asked 
forgiveness.  The  room  was  high  up,  and  Besser 
could  not  hear  the  altercation. 


DREAMS  207 

**  Take  that  for  touching  my  girl,"  said  Prahl. 

"  Oh  !  O  Prahl !  I  didn't  know  Violet  was 
yours.     Are  there  two  Violets  ?  " 

Prahl  terrified  him  by  menaces. 

"  I'll  never  do  it  again,  Prahl — never !  "  ex- 
claimed Hubert,  taking  refuge  in  his  bed,  and 
covering  himself  with  the  clothes.  "  Money ! 
money ! " 

He  promised  so  much  money  that  at  length 
Prahl  desisted,  and  Hubert  lay  exhausted  in  the 
bed.  The  episode  proved  so  injurious  to  him, 
that  next  day  Bede  was  sent  for.  Luckily, 
Hubert  was  in  a  somnolent  state,  and  did  not 
recognize  him.  Bede  said  that  it  was  not  likely 
he  would  give  trouble  for  some  time. 

"  It  will  be  a  blessing  if  he  will  die,"  said  Bede. 
"  But  as  yet  his  pulse  is  good.  They  some- 
times linger  six  months  and  more  after  this 
stage." 

"Die?"  asked  Besser,  "what  on  earth  would 
they  say  when  they  know  he  was  here  all  the 
time !  Don't  you  think  it  should  be  brought  to 
an  end  at  once  ?  " 

"  No  ;  it's  impossible.  We  must  take  care  of 
Violet." 


208  THE  DESTROYER 

"  I've  had  a  letter  from  my  aunt's  lawyers  say- 
ing they  expect  her  soon." 

Bede  left,  encouraging  him  to  hold  out  a  little 
longer.  "  Violet  will  be  so  grateful  to  you,"  he 
said,  "  when  she  knows." 

Besser  disguised  his  own  feelings  from  the 
doctor,  and  indeed  he  disguised  also  from  himself 
the  thought  that  Hubert's  death  would  not  be 
deplorable.  He  was  far,  indeed,  from  ardently 
wishing  it,  but  the  thought  was  secretly  housed 
somewhere  in  his  brain.  He  could  not  help  it. 
In  spite  of  himself  his  own  perturbation  grew. 
Everything  was  ripe  for  that  inner  sedition  which 
he  had  suspected  and  foretold  long  ago.  It  was 
not  likely,  indeed,  that  a  man  of  his  nature  could 
escape  it.  It  was  not  enough  that  he  had  spent 
half  his  fire  in  religious  passion  and  the  flames  of 
words.  Even  Savonarola  and  St.  Francis,  his 
two  saints,  had  fallen  in  love.  To  him  it  was 
coming — perhaps  late,  but  it  was  coming.  He 
saw  before  him  some  long  mortal  struggle.  Never 
were  the  nets  and  springes  better  laid.  The 
organization  of  all  the  forces  and  circumstances 
that  may  mislead  a  man  was  never  more  perfect. 
It  was,  he  said,  incomparable  stuff  for  a  stupid 


DREAMS  209 

tragedy.  He  was  perfectly  conscious  of  it,  and 
of  the  part  he  was  to  play.  Sometimes  he 
sneered,  which  was  rare  to  him,  but  a  more  seri- 
ous mood  supervened,  for  the  reality  of  his  con- 
dition was  expressed  by  a  physical  sign.  During 
successive  days  he  had  experienced  that  peculiar 
sensation — the  most  unutterable  a  human  being 
can  bear — which  seems  to  take  its  seat  about  the 
region  of  the  heart,  and  up  through  the  chest 
towards  the  mouth.  Only  human  beings  cause  it 
to  each  other.  It  is  the  sensation  which  ac- 
companies the  strange  beginnings  of  all  love. 
The  loss  of  other  things,  wealth,  reputation,  and 
the  rupture  of  fortune,  brings  another  of  its  own 
kind.  This  is  the  very  cruellest  and  refined  of 
all.  "  Now,  now,"  he  said  sharply  to  himself,  "  I 
will  catch  myself  in  this  early  root  and  budding 
of  my  folly ! "  Or,  in  plain  words,  with  no  dis- 
guises, he  loved  Violet.  He  had  never  known 
love  before.  It  was  irony  that  he  was  to  be 
brought  so  late  so  near  towards  the  ways  of  in- 
stinct after  he  had  forgotten  them.  Long  years 
of  self-discipline  may  have  been  making  him,  in 
mockery,  easier  prey.     His  moral    sensitiveness 

had  its  physical  accompaniment.     The  long,  inner 
14 


2IO  THE   DESTROYER 

oppression  of  natural  feeling  and  desire  was  ex- 
hausting him.  He  looked  closely  into  himself  to 
discover  and  exaggerate  the  shape  of  his  deform- 
ity. Can  a  man,  he  thought,  allow  sin  to  pass 
through  his  soul  as  through  a  witch's  sieve,  and 
gather  out  of  it  what  may  be  good  ?  Is  there 
goodness  in  evil?  Nay,  how  could  he  have 
known  that  beauty  sits  waiting  for  all  men, 
making  the  streets  dramatic? 

He  pressed  hard  against  the  shutting  door  of 
his  wisdom.  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  asked,  **  that  I 
have  something  monstrous  in  me  suddenly  show- 
ing itself  ?  Then  let  me  die  rather  !  Let  death 
come  down  like  a  portcullis !  "  But  he  felt  the 
persistence  of  his  destiny  offering  itself,  pushing 
against  him,  laughing  half  kindly  over  him.  Un- 
satisfied love  had  driven  him  from  the  monastery. 
Yet  now  his  fate  was  worse  than  before,  because 
his  new-old  love  was  impossible.  He  never  men- 
tioned to  himself  her  name.  He  tried  to  forget 
her  name.  He  longed  to  return  to  Monte  Oli- 
veto,  but  he  received  a  letter  from  Abate  di  Negri 
encouraging  him.  "  Carissimo  figlio,''  the  old 
man  wrote,  ^'presto  verrh  il  giorno  di  Vittoria  !  " 
And  after  all,  he  was  glad  that  he  had  no  official 


DREAMS  211 

label  stuck  on  his  back  to  keep  him  right.  He 
had  no  obligation  except  his  pride,  which  is  one 
of  the  good  roots  of  ethics.  "  I  will  wait  till 
Hubert  can  return  to  her,"  he  said.  "  As  for 
myself,  I  will  take  refuge  in  mockery  of  this  por- 
tentous nightmare.  It  will  pass  away — I  will 
pass  away.     We  are  splinters  and  fragments." 

Unfortunately,  since  ever  he  had  returned,  he 
had  been  told  in  a  hundred  ways  that  his  duty 
to  her  was  meanwhile  to  shield  her  from  the 
truth.  So  that  during  those  weeks  he  seemed  to 
share  only  a  small  part  of  his  own  real  inner  life. 
No  one  except  Maeterlinck,  perhaps,  could  let  us 
see  his  soul  sitting,  as  it  were,  apart  from  him, 
and  watching  the  scars  of  his  alienation.  It  was 
then  he  began  to  understand  why  some  men  are 
afraid  to  become  good,  in  case  goodness  is  hum- 
drum. Will  it  give  scope  for  their  passion  ?  He 
saw  all  the  vigor  of  iniquity,  its  daring,  its  love  of 
hairbreadth  escapes,  in  a  life's  imminent  deadly 
breach.  Here,  then,  he  thought,  is  an  occasion  of 
all  sorts  of  spiritual  fencing  and  drill. 

But  when  night  came  and  he  did  sleep,  he  was 
helpless  in  his  dreams.  He  had  said  :  "  Saint, 
what  about   your   dreams  ? "     He   turned    from 


212  THE  DESTROYER 

sleep,  afraid,  and  fled  from  it  like  a  fugitive. 
Yet  it  laid  soft,  voluptuous  hands  upon  him  in 
mockery  of  long  vigils.  "  Our  dreams,"  he  said, 
"  are  the  best  criticism  of  our  life.  They  are  of 
vast  significance.  They  are  the  parody  and  cari- 
cature of  our  error,  and  the  reductio  ad absurdum, 
of  our  vice."  Our  vice  ?  In  his  dreams  he  had 
kissed  Violet  night  after  night  with  long,  passion- 
ate kisses.  It  was  a  curious  way  for  him  to  dis- 
cover that  we  are  double  beings,  and  that  the  un- 
conscious plays  still  so  large  a  part  within  us,  not 
yet  subdued  under  the  politics  and  parliament  of 
our  brain.  He  felt  eager  to  run  to  Hubert,  and 
urge  him  to  go  away.  He  was  puzzled  by  the 
divergent  morality  of  his  dreaming  and  his  waking 
life.  He  might  have  known  surely  that  many 
saints  find  their  dreams  as  awkward.  But  he 
began  to  wonder  which  part  of  his  life  was  more 
real. 

Mulvey  House  seemed  more  still  even  than  the 
House  of  Rimmon.  Everything  was  still.  Even 
the  mice  and  rats  seemed  to  have  fled  on  the  oc- 
cupant's return.  The  great  curtains  still  swayed 
in  the  gloom  when  the  autumn  wind  passed 
through    the   open    door.      Besser   had    arrested 


DREAMS  213 

further  preparations.  Few  carpets  were  laid.  If 
a  door  closed  the  noise  echoed  through  the  huge 
house,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  were  putting  up  at  an 
inn  on  a  midnight  journey. 

Besser  secretly  desired  Miriam  to  betray  the 
truth,  and  so  take  the  burden  away,  although  Dr. 
Bede  said  it  would  be  almost  criminal.  But  the 
strain  was  too  great,  and  seemed  to  threaten  in- 
definite duration  of  itself.  One  morning  Besser, 
who  had  so  often  witnessed  the  humiliation  of 
others,  felt  eager  to  confess  to  Hubert.  He 
thought  that  by  exaggerating  his  dream-sins  he 
might  bring  on  the  crisis  of  Hubert's  jealousy. 
The  truth  was,  that  he  was  the  victim  of  the  sen- 
sitiveness of  his  moral  imagination.  He  merely 
excited  Hubert,  and  raised  new  dangers. 

"  Hubert,"  he  said,  "  get  well  quickly." 

"Why,  Ed?" 

"  Oh,  it's  an  unnatural  condition.  It's  per- 
turbing. I  dream  about  you  and  Violet  every 
night." 

"  You  dream  about  Violet  ?"  said  Hubert,  ris- 
ing in  his  bed.     "  What  can  you  dream  about  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  admit  I  have  no  right.  It's  the 
excitement." 


214  THE   DESTROYER 

"  No,  Edgar,  you've  no  right ;  it's  monstrous  of 
you  ! 

"  Hubert — I  wish  to  confess.  I  kissed  her  in 
my  dreams — once — twice !  " 

"  O  Ed  !  Oh,  you  kissed  her  !  I  told  you," 
cried  Hubert,  covering  himself  with  the  bed- 
clothes. 

"  Only  dreaming,  Hubert." 

"  O  God !  it's  the  same  thing.  I  am  lying 
helpless." 

He  refused  to  speak  more,  but  became  uncon- 
trollable again  in  his  malevolence. 

"  Hubert,  Hubert,  let  me  explain  !  "  but  it  was 
no  use  trying  to  explain. 

A  few  moments  of  such  conversation  seemed 
to  send  him  off  his  equilibrium.  At  the  begin- 
ning he  reasoned  correctly,  but  invariably  got  un- 
manageable at  the  close. 

To  make  matters  still  worse,  Lady  Rimmon 
and  Violet  called  that  afternoon  at  Mulvey 
House.  Besser  turned  pale  when  they  were  an- 
nounced. 

"  Now,  doesnt  he  look  wobegone?"  said  Lady 
Rimmon  as  he  came  in.  "  You're  like  the  ghost 
of  the  house,  you  know." 


DREAMS  215 

"  The  only  haunted  house  is  the  human  body !  " 
said  Besser  with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,"  said  Violet,  looking  at  him. 

"  I  think  we're  all  in  the  dumps  at  Mulvey," 
said  Besser.  "  It  seems  dark  and  chill  after  the 
south.  I  would  like  to  build  a  temple  to  the 
sun. 

It  was  the  first  time  Violet  had  gone  out  since 
May.  Both  she  and  her  mother  were  in  deep 
mourning.     Besser  knew  why,  and  felt   confused. 

"You  know,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  lowering  her 
voice,  "  we've  had  word.  The  worst  is  over. 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  has  found  his  grave,  and  she  is 
coming  home  very  soon." 

Besser  controlled  himself  with  difificulty.  He 
observed  the  pardonable  satisfaction  of  Lady 
Rimmon's  tone,  and  when  he  looked  at  Violet 
she  was  perfectly  still. 

"  But,"  he  said,  "  my  aunt  might  be  easily  de- 
ceived. She  knows  nothing  of  the  language. 
Those  Corsicans  are  perfect  rogues,  and  might 
say  anything.  They  may  have  palmed  off  any 
new-made  grave  on  her.  It  is  to  be  hoped  she 
spoke  to  our  consul.  There  must  be  a  consul  at 
Ajaccio." 


2l6  THE  DESTROYER 

"  It  was  in  the  very  wilds  of  the  island,"  said 
Lady  Rimmon. 

"  She  saw  his  guide,"  said  Violet ;  "  it's  quite 
certain." 

Besser  rose  under  pretense  of  pulling  up  a 
blind. 

"  It's  getting  so  soon  dark,"  he  said. 

"  What  a  huge  room,"  exclaimed  Lady  Rim- 
mon. "  I  remember  your  mother  used  to  be 
proud  of  her  rooms." 

"  I'm  not  opening  the  house,"  said  Besser. 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  may  not  stay,"  he  replied. 

"  Now  then,  you're  not  going  to  forsake  us  so 
soon !     You  need  a  wife  !  " 

"  I'll  wait  till  my  aunt  comes  back  to  see  what 
I'll  do." 

Besser  knew  not  to  mention  Sir  Saul's  name. 
Underneath  Lady  Rimmon's  apparent  good 
spirits  he  detected  her  trouble.  The  whole  coun- 
tryside was  becoming  perturbed  by  Mabb.  It 
was  said  that  Sir  Saul  was  about  to  leave  on  a 
long  voyage. 

Lady  Rimmon  bravely  alluded  to  Mabb's  at- 
tack on  Besser's  popery. 


DREAMS  217 

"  You've  been  attacked  by  the  new  clergyman," 
she  said. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Besser,  smiling. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "that's  the  way  to  take  it. 
As  if  people  care  anything  for  what  he  says !  " 

Besser's  and  Violet's  eyes  met.  He  looked  at 
her  lips,  and  he  wondered  at  the  curious  difference 
between  the  morality  of  an  act  done,  and  of  the 
same  act  dreamt  or  imagined.  He  sat  trembling 
in  case  Hubert  might  surprise  them,  for  he  had  not 
had  time  to  give  Prahl  warning.  It  was  impos- 
sible  to  lock  him  in,  because  he  invariably  opened 
the  windows  and  shouted.  He  had  come  upon 
Besser  suddenly  more  than  once.  If  Prahl 
chanced  to  be  absent  for  an  instant  he  used  to 
come  down  the  stair.  While  he  was  speaking  to 
Lady  Rimmon,  Besser  heard  a  noise  on  the  stair- 
case and  started. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said,  and  left  the  room 
abruptly. 

He  saw  Hubert  on  the  stair  in  his  dressing- 
gown.  He  beckoned  him  in  silent  gestures  to 
remain  where  he  was.  Hubert  stood  looking 
down  on  him.  Besser  mounted  quickly,  making 
dumb  gestures  all  the  way.     Both  of  them  spoke 


2l8  THE   DESTROYER 

the  dumb  alphabet,  and  used  to  use  it  when  they 
wished  no  one  to  overhear  their  conversation.  It 
had  become  for  Hubert  a  sign  of  danger,  and 
whenever  Besser  began  it  he  knew  to  reply  in  the 
same  way.  Besser  rapidly  improvised  a  conver- 
sation, and  told  Hubert  that  there  was  some  one 
in  the  house. 

"  Who  ? "  he  asked  in  the  dumb  alphabet, 
placing  his  hands  in  the  equivalent  position. 

Besser  hesitated. 

"  Who  ?  "  Hubert  asked  again. 

"  Violet !  "  answered  Besser. 

Hubert  made  his  way  up  the  stair  to  his  room, 
and  Besser  came  down.  But  no  sooner  was  he 
in  his  room  than  Hubert  stood  at  the  door  listen- 
ing. He  came  forward  and  walked  along  the 
gallery,  stopping  to  lean  over.  He  tried  to  dis- 
obey the  impulse  that  was  driving  him  to  take 
Violet  unawares.  He  heard  them  come  out,  and 
he  opened  the  second  door  of  the  tower  which 
communicated  with  the  gallery  and  ran  up.  His 
bribe  to  Prahl  still  made  him  master  of  the  key 
of  the  top  door.  When  he  arrived  at  the  top  he 
saw  them  in  the  avenue.  He  crouched  on  the 
balcony,  and  looked  through  the  little  pillars  of 


DREAMS  219 

the  balustrade.  Besser  was  walking  between 
Lady  Rimmon  and  Violet.  Lady  Rimmon 
stopped  and  looked  about  the  grounds  and  then 
up  to  the  tower.  Violet  and  Besser  did  the  same. 
Hubert  saw  Violet's  face  looking  up  at  him,  but 
she  could  not  see  him  on  account  of  the  solid 
stonework  that  formed  the  base  of  the  balustrade. 
The  tears  hurried  down  his  cheeks.  Then  the 
three  walked  to  the  main  gate,  while  Hubert  went 
silently  down  the  tower  to  his  room. 


CHAPTER  VI 

"Ah,  Love !     Somewhat  let  be ! " — Fr.  Thompson. 

Prahl  was  watching  his  master.     Events  were 

apparently  going  to  happen  as  he  had   foretold, 

and  his  shrewd  brain  grasped  the  situation  on  its 

more   obvious   and   vulgar   side.     He    had  been 

quietly  making  inquiries  in  Mulvey,  and  had  found 

out  that  Besser  and  Violet  had  grown  up  together, 

and  used  to  be  friends.     Ruth   Profeit,  Besser 's 

housekeeper,  remained,  indeed,  discreetly  silent, 

because  her  suspicion  of  Prahl  was  as  strong  as 

her   faith   in   her  young   master.     Whereas   the 

younger  servants  were  afraid  of  Prahl  since  he  had 

now  Besser's  confidence,  and  seemed  to  possess  a 

brief  authority.     Ruth  alone  among  them  made 

him  feel  that  he  was  an  interloper.     She  furnished 

him  with  the  least  possible  information  about  the 

inhabitants  of  Mulvey  and  their  ways.     If  the 

conversation  ever  turned  on  Rimmon  House  she 

used  to  evade  his  questions  by  feigning  ignorance. 
220 


"ah,  love!  somewhat  let  be!"     221 

"  Mabb'U  be  able  to  say,"  she  said.  "  He  and 
other  new  upstarts  seem  to  know  all  about  us 
here.  I'd  thank  you  just  to  be  more  careful  about 
our  invalid  gent,  and  not  bring  that  Miriam  about 
this  house." 

Prahl  told  her  that,  not  having  traveled,  she 
knew  nothing  of  the  world,  and  out  of  the  abun- 
dance of  his  superior  knowledge  he  gave  hints  of 
future  events. 

"  D'you  suppose,"  he  asked,  "  that  this  can 
last  ?     It's  a  farce  !  " 

"  It's  not  mine  to  say  whether  it'll  last,  nor 
yours  neither,"  said  Ruth.  "  We've  to  do  our 
work  and  not  meddle." 

"  That's  a  virtuous  dame  !  "  exclaimed  Prahl. 

"  And  I'm  not  so  sure  that  you're  a  virtuous 
gent,"  said  Ruth. 

"  Oh,  now,  Mistress  Ruth,"  said  he,  "  you're 
not  going  to  tell  me  that  every  one  in  Mulvey's 
as  innocent  as  you  !  " 

"  It's  not  mine  to  say  they're  not,"  said  Ruth, 
"  All  I  care  about  is  that  our  master's  the  finest 
and  purest  of  gents." 

"  He  is,"  said  Prahl,  and  turned  away. 

He  knew  that  all  gaps  in  his  information  would 


222  THE   DESTROYER 

be  filled  up  by  Miriam.  He  had  Miriam  now  so 
completely  enthralled  in  her  love  for  him  that  he 
could  count  on  her  obedience.  She  had  said  noth- 
ing to  any  one  about  what  she  knew,  for  she  was 
aware  that  if  the  secret  of  Hubert's  presence  in 
Mulvey  leaked  out  it  would  mean  the  loss  of  his 
place  to  Prahl.  Likewise,  the  other  servants  were 
kept  well  in  check,  and  there  was  no  danger  that 
any  passer-by  might  see  Hubert  in  the  grounds, 
because  he  now  lay  in  bed  more  or  less  in  a  som- 
nolent state.  His  power  of  speech  was  leaving 
him,  and  he  was  having  recourse  more  and  more 
to  the  dumb  alphabet.  But  Prahl,  measuring  his 
master  by  himself,  believed  that  Besser's  delay  in 
surrendering  Hubert  was  easily  explained.  He 
was  laughing  in  his  sleeve.  He  thought  it  a  huge, 
roundabout  English  joke.  The  apparent  con- 
nivance of  the  doctor  only  made  things  brighter 
and  more  amusing.  He  had,  moreover,  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  affair,  and  might  any  day 
turn  it  to  profit.  Meantime  he  watched  Besser, 
and  played  with  Miriam.  Miriam's  peculiar  posi- 
tion required  delicate  handling,  not,  indeed,  be- 
cause she  was  still  Cubitt's  nominal  lover — that 
was  nothing — but  Prahl  had  not  yet  seen  Sir  Saul, 


"  AH,    LOVE  !    SOMEWHAT   LET   BE  !  "       223 

although  he  had  a  plan  about  him.  He  intended 
to  go  straight  to  him  some  day  and  offer  to  take 
Miriam  out  of  Mulvey.  Doubtless  Sir  Saul  would 
be  too  well  pleased,  and  would  give  her  a  secret 
dowry.  Indeed,  it  was  precisely  what  Sir  Saul 
was  desiring.  Yet  Prahl  waited,  because  Cubitt 
had  to  be  "  settled,"  and,  besides,  it  was  conveni- 
ent to  take  notes  of  Mabb's  sermons.  They 
would  be  useful  in  an  interview  with  Sir  Saul. 

Mabb  was  still  perturbing  the  district.  Old 
Isaac  began  to  be  persuaded  to  go  to  hear  him. 
When  he  returned,  he  rehearsed  the  vague  accu- 
sations to  Mother  Dagon,  who  professed  to  know 
nothing  about  them.  Cubitt  was  doubtless  in  the 
mystery,  but  he  remained  taciturn,  with  a  peasant's 
slow  penetration  of  its  relations  to  himself.  He 
ran  after  Miriam  no  more.  Rather,  she  came  to 
him  with  awkward  simulation  of  love. 

"  No,  no,  Mir,"  said  the  big-legged  lad,  "  thou 
art  giving  me  hard  ground  to  plow." 

Miriam  could  never  come  to  the  point  of  giving 
him  up,  although  she  had  told  him  often  he 
wasn't  refined  enough.  She  thought  she  would 
write  a  letter.  But  the  final  rupture  was  caused 
bv  Cubitt  himself.     He  was  too  inarticulate  to 


224  THE   DESTROYER 

show  his  indignation  in  anything  except  deeds. 
So  an  opportunity  came  when  he  once  saw  Prahl 
near  Sir  Saul's  pond  on  a  winter  day.  Doubtless, 
thought  he,  the  German  was  waiting  for  Mir. 
Prahl  was  dressed  in  his  black  suit,  while  Cubitt's 
drab-colored  clothes  were  stained  by  his  labor  in 
the  fields. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Prahl  condescendingly. 

"  It's  a  good  morning,"  replied  Cubitt,  coming 
down  to  him  at  the  edge  of  the  pond.  "  You're 
waiting  for  Mir,  maybe  ?" 

"  And  what's  that  to  you  ?  "  asked  Prahl. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Cubitt. 

Without  another  word  he  took  him  by  the  col- 
lar, twisted  him  in  the  air,  and  threw  him  scream- 
ing into  the  pond.  Prahl  went  down,  and  came 
up  shivering  to  the  surface,  while  Cubitt  with  his 
hands  on  his  haunches  watched  him  wade  out. 
He  stood  imperturbable,  with  a  slight  grin  at 
Prahl's  ineffectual  oaths. 

"  Don't  know  what  you  say,"  said  Cubitt. 

At  that  moment  Miriam  came  in  sight,  and 
gave  a  little  shrill  cry.  Prahl's  clothes,  glossy 
with  the  water,  were  sticking  to  him,  and  he 
stood    ludicrous   on  the   bank.     When    he   saw 


"AH,   love!    somewhat  LET  BE  !  "       22$ 

Miriam,  he  shouted  words  of  revenge  and  dis- 
appeared. Miriam  took  off  the  little  ring  Cubitt 
had  given  her  and  threw  it  into  the  pond,  and 
called  Cubitt  a  coarse  bully.  Cubitt  grinned 
when  she  said  she  would  get  him  paid  off,  and 
then  shouldered  his  spade,  and  trudged  through 
the  brushwood. 

That  incident  helped  to  hurry  and  complete 
Prahl's  design.  It  became  known  all  over  Mulvey 
that  Cubitt  had  thrown  him  into  the  pond,  so 
that  wherever  he  went  he  was  derided.  But  he 
had  won  Miriam.  He  asked  her  if  she  would  like 
to  travel  about  with  him,  and  she  said  yes.  After 
all,  Mulvey  was  a  poor,  stale  place  for  a  cosmo- 
politan. He  bethought  him  to  go  at  once  to  Sir 
Saul.  But  he  believed  in  his  luck,  and  still  de- 
layed. It  might  not  be  wise  to  surrender  so 
suddenly  the  good  berth  he  had  already.  And 
although  it  was  humiliating  to  be  the  keeper  of  a 
mad  gent,  it  had  been  thus  far  profitable.  And 
it  might  be  more  profitable  still.  For  instance, 
if  Besser  ever  became  rough  on  him,  and  dis- 
missed him,  he  could  threaten  to  let  the  House 
of  Rimmon  know  all  the  ongoings  of  the  past  few 

months.     Indeed,  it  was  not  till  Hubert  had  mis- 
15 


226  THE   DESTROYER 

taken  Miriam  for  Violet  that  Prahl  saw  how  use- 
ful the  affair  might  become  to  himself.  Mean- 
time, he  remained  very  discreet,  and  warned  his 
fellow-servants  to  keep  steady.  It  was  not  often 
that  he  went  to  see  Miriam  at  the  home  farm. 
Cubitt  was  sure  to  be  there,  huge,  silent,  and  for- 
midable. Besides,  Mother  Dagon  began  to  be 
afraid  of  Prahl,  and  writhed  under  his  acuteness. 
He  had  quizzed  her  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  Luckily, 
Mabb  had  caught  a  chill,  and  was  in  bed,  so  that 
there  was  a  lull  in  his  denunciations.  The  winter 
might  pass  quietly,  but  no  one  knew  what  might 
happen  in  spring,  although  Miriam  whispered  to 
her  mother  that,  for  one  thing,  she  and  Prahl 
would  get  wedded  and  go. 

At  Rimmon  House  they  were  waiting  the  arri- 
val of  Mrs.  Proudfoot.  It  was  a  year  since  Lady 
Rimmon  had  decided  to  leave  Mulvey  forever, 
but  she  had  remained  for  Violet's  sake,  and  had 
braved  everything  that  had  happened.  Now 
that  Hubert  was  out  of  the  way,  there  appeared 
at  last  to  be  some  hope  of  seeing  Violet  happy. 
She  took  refuge  from  her  own  distresses  in  com- 
plete silence,  convinced  that  any  attempt  to 
obtain  her  rights  would  only  make  the  situation 


"  AH,    LOVE  !    SOMEWHAT   LET  BE  !  "       22/ 

worse.  Mabb  was  doubtless  a  vexation,  especially 
since  things  had  gone  on  slumbering  for  so  long. 
She  had  played  her  part,  and  not  unwisely.  The 
grossness  of  her  surroundings  heightened  her  con- 
sciousness of  the  wisdom  of  her  reserve.  Besides, 
her  sole  thought  was  Violet's  marriage  with 
Besser.     They  had  long  talks  about  him. 

"  What's  the  good  of  saying  that  the  thing's 
impossible  ?  "  she  asked  Violet. 

"  You  used  to  say  so  yourself." 

"Yes,  long  ago.     Now,  it's  different." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Violet.  "  He  can  dis- 
pense with  me  or  any  one." 

"  Every  one  is  saying  it  will  happen,  and  you 
know  by  his  looks  !  If  he  had  not  gone  into  that 
church,  you  never  would  have  been  '  Mrs.  Proud- 
foot.'  If  he  had  even  been  content  with  the  Eng- 
lish Church,  where  the  men  are  sensible  enough 
to  marry  !     But  he  adores  you  now." 

"  I  think  rather  he  pities  us  !  "  said  Violet. 

"  Wait,  dear.  We  women  wait  well.  I'm  per- 
fectly sure  it'll  come  all  right.  It's  going  to  be 
the  one  happiness  of  my  life.  Just  think!  I 
don't  believe  I  would  go  away.  I  would  wait  on 
to  see  your  happiness,  my  dear,"  said  Lady  Rim- 


228  THE   DESTROYER 

mon,  kissing  her.  "  Neither  of  us  cares  anything 
for  the  outside  talk,  do  we  ?  " 

"  No,  mother." 

"  We'll  have  a  little  island  of  bliss  all  to  our- 
selves.    He's  so  noble  !  " 

Lady  Rimmon  kept  thus  dreaming  her  last 
dream,  and  perhaps  Violet  was  dreaming  hers. 

"  It's  perfectly  true,"  she  wrote  in  her  journal, 
"  what  mother  says — we  women  suffer  well.  As 
for  me,  I  am  becoming  impervious.  You  might 
as  well  jag  a  mummy  as  jag  me  now.  We  get 
mummified  to  sorrow.  I  somehow  feel  that  the 
world  is  in  the  end  utterly  irrelevant  to  us,  all  its 
crime  and  cruelty.  We  sit  in  the  middle  of  it, 
dreaming  other  things.  It's  too  shallow,  and  we 
need  the  deep  sea." 

She  turned  over  the  pages  and  read  her  scored- 
out  descriptions  of  Besser.  At  the  side  of  them 
she  wrote  mechanically  :  "  I'm  a  poor  prophetess 
— or  a  prophetess  who  recants  her  prophecies  !  " 

Might  the  day  come  when  her  mother  could 
say  again  :  "  It's  all  Edgar,  Edgar  with  herj/et  /  " 
Perhaps  love  might  come  again  as  sudden  as  the 
ringing  of  a  bell.  "  But  I  dare  not,"  wrote  Violet, 
"  put  on  the  loud  pedal  to  that  tune  !  "     Yet,  for 


"  AH,    LOVE  !    SOMEWHAT   LET   BE  !  "       229 

all  she  knew,  she  might  run  towards  love  again  as 
quickly  as  she  used  to  run,  when  she  was  a  child 
long  ago,  to  a  band  of  music.  After  all,  she  admit- 
ted to  her  mother  that  if  it  was  not  love  that  was 
disturbing  Besser,  she  did  not  know  what  it  was. 
He  had  come  over  often,  apparently  with  some- 
thing to  say,  but  had  never  said  it.  A  smile 
loitered  about  his  face,  and  he  had  an  inexplicable 
sad  mien.  Lady  Rimmon  and  Violet  gave  their 
own  explanation  of  that  outward  dejection. 

"  He  thinks  it's  too  soon,"  said  Lady  Rimmon. 
"  That's  what  he  meant  when  he  said  he  was  wait- 
ing till  his  aunt  came  home,  you  remember.  He 
doesn't  want  to  hurt  her  feelings.  I've  told 
your  father  to  encourage  him.  But  do  you  know 
what  he  said  to  me  ?  He  said  that  he  believes 
Hubert  is  alive  !     It's  wicked  of  him." 

Besser,  indeed,  came  over  one  night  fully  per- 
suaded that  he  could  withhold  the  truth  no 
onger.  For  although  Hubert  lay  quiet  in  bed, 
and  agreed  to  almost  every  proposal  that  was 
made  to  him,  even  allowing  Dr.  Bede  to  examine 
him,  Besser  felt  that  the  strain  was  becoming 
more  unbearable  every  day.  Dissimulation  was 
being  forced  upon  him,  and  he  felt  that  not  even 


230  THE   DESTROYER 

the  most  skilful  of  us  can  be  long  scientifically 
wicked.  Besides,  Prahl  seemed  to  be  growing 
retivse. 

•*  Well,  then,"  said  Dr.  Bede,  "  do  as  you  like. 
But  I  warn  you  !     I'll  wait  till  you  come  back." 

He  found  Violet  in  the  divan  sewing  an  altar- 
cloth. 

"You  see,"  she  said,  "  I  am  turning  a  perfectly 
amiable  Dorcas.  I  used  to  laugh  at  needle  and 
thread,  but  now  it's  almost  all  I  do." 

Besser  was  more  pale  than  she  had  ever  seen 
him,  and  his  hair  was  lying  rough  on  his  brow. 

"  What's  wrong?"  she  asked  in  her  full-toned 
voice. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  he  said.     "  May  I  smoke  ?  " 

A  little  green  and  yellow  lamp,  suspended  from 
the  roof,  and  caught  like  a  censer,  swung  above 
them.  He  took  a  low  seat  near  her,  and  lit  a 
cigar. 

"You  like  this  dim  light  of  churches?"  he 
asked. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  said,  "  I  suppose  I'm  stupid  and 
sentimental.  I  give  way  before  solemn  music  and 
dark  aisles,  and  it's  then  I  understand  what  drove 
you  to  the  Church.     The  world's  noise  outside  • 


"AH,  love!  somewhat  let  be!"     231 

seems  perfectly  irrelevant  to  us.  But  the  worst 
of  it  is,  that  with  people  like  me,  and  I  think  you, 
no  single  feeling  prevails.     Have  you  one  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"What  is  it.?" 

"  Shame,"  he  said. 

"Shame!     Why?" 

"  I  really  don't  know." 

"  You! — you!  Never!  You've  too  great  moral 
sensitiveness,  you  know.  It's  perfectly  wonder- 
ful that  the  human  soul  has  grown  like  a  sensitive 
plant,  becoming  more  and  more  afraid  of  its  rough 
moral  surroundings.  Compare  your  idea  of  crime 
with  a  savage's,  or  Cesar  Borgia's  or  Eccelino's. 
As  human  judgment  becomes  more  sensitive  it 
begins  to  condemns  Nature  as  a  huge,  lewd 
thing." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Besser,  wondering  where  she 
had  got  her  thoughtfulness,  "  but  it  means  that 
crime  does  not  disappear,  but  only  becomes  more 
and  more  subtle  and  refined,  secret  and  deadly. 
The  world  is  a  meshwork  of  concealed    hands." 

He  paused.  The  phrase  had  jumped  to  his 
mouth,  and  he  saw  how  it  described  the  situation. 
Violet  laid  down  her  work.     Their  eyes  met,  and 


232  THE   DESTROYER 

Besser's  were  moist.  The  secret  was  on  his  lips, 
but  she  did  not  know. 

"  Concealed  hands  ?  "  she  repeated. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  and  mankind  love  chiefly 
gossip." 

"  Ah,  you're  griimbly  to-day,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"  To  think,"  he  said  within  himself,  "  that  I 
dare  not  even  touch  her  hand  ! " 

"  You  don't  object  to  this  smoke,"  he  said  aloud, 
sending  out  a  cloud  which  almost  concealed  his 
face. 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  "  what  astonishes  me  is 
that  I've  kept  my  temper  so  much  better  than 
you !  You  know  the  kind  of  life  I've  had.  If 
heredity  is  true,  I  should  be  the  most  vulgar  of 
beings." 

He  knew  to  what  she  was  referring. 

"  We  have  a  family  iniquity  of  our  own,"  Violet 
continued,  "  a  sort  of  special  variety.  By  all  the 
laws  of  nature  I  should  carry  it  on.  But  I  am 
the  stop-gap.  Long  ago  I  took  refuge  in  the 
truth  that,  after  all,  the  saints  are  on  the  side  of 
esthetics.  I  think  you  taught  me  it.  Real  saint- 
liness  does  preserve  human  beauty." 

"  Yes,"  said  Besser,  "  I  suppose  no  saint  could 


"  AH,    LOVE  !    SOMEWHAT   LET  BE  !  "      233 

be  really  vulgar.  We  could  object  to  '  sin,*  just 
as  we  object  to  a  bad  stench." 

"  Mabb  wouldn't  put  it  in  that  way ! "  ex- 
claimed Violet. 

"  Oh,  he  wouldn't  understand  it,"  said  Besser. 
"  These  men  are  scavengers ;  but  a  moralist 
doesn't  use  such  a  tremendous  shovel  and  brush." 

"  My  father  is  a  huge  coward,"  said  Violet. 

The  proprieties  forbade  Besser  acquiescing. 
But  he  had  come  for  another  purpose,  and  had 
not  meant  to  let  the  time  slip  away  on  such  talk. 
Violet  was  amused  by  the  old  look  of  impatient 
search  in  his  eyes,  which  used  to  be  accompanied 
by  a  sort  of  undeveloped  frown  on  his  brows. 

"You  always  seem  to  be  looking  for  some- 
thing," she  said,  laughing. 

He  could  not  break  in  upon  her  that  night,  so 
he  went  abruptly  away. 

"  Has  he  gone  ?  "  said  Lady  Rimmon,  coming 
in.     "  What  was  he  saying  ?  " 

"  Heaps  of  things,"  said  Violet.  "  He's  a  kind 
of  eccentric  latter-day  saint." 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  "  and 
saints  don't  wed  !  " 

Violet  wrote  much  in  her  book  that  night  be- 


234  THE  DESTROYER 

fore  she  went  to  bed.  "  Love  chooses  only  once. 
I  have  loved  only  one  man,  and  it  is  he,  and  he  is 
in  love  with  me.  Life,  then,  is  going  to  be  kind. 
I  never  would  have  known  him  rightly,  reverenced 
him  enough,  unless  I  had  come  through  that  gross 
tribulation." 

Meantime,  Besser  had  gone  home.  Bede  was 
anxiously  awaiting  him. 

"  Well  ?  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "  have  you 
killed  her?" 

"  I  didn't  tell,"  said  Besser,  "  I  was  afraid." 

Bede's  eyes  brightened. 

"  I've  news,"  he  said. 

"  What  ?  " 

"  He's  got  a  real  lucid  interval  just  now,  and  is 
perfectly  quiet  and  reasonable.  We  have  had  a 
long  talk.  He  understands  everything,  and  he 
wishes  to  release  Violet,  and  is  eager  to  see  you." 

Besser  made  a  negative  gesture. 

"  Stop,"  said  Bede,  "  the  thing  can  be  done. 
We'll  just  go  up.  He's  quite  anxious  to  see  you 
and  Violet  happy.  I  think  it  can  be  managed. 
I  can  certify  that  he  was  insane  when  he  married 
her,  and  that  is  enough,  supposing  this  renuncia- 
tion comes  directly  through  him,  and  of  his  own 


"AH,  love!  somewhat  let  be!"     235 

accord.  At  any  rate  we'll  allow  him  to  make  any 
statement  he  wishes.     There's  no  time  to  lose." 

"  Does  he  really  ?  "  said  Besser,  following  the 
doctor.  "  I  was  just  going  to  tell  you  the  thing 
must  come  to  an  end." 

"  How  long,"  asked  Bede,  "  has  he  been  talking 
this  dumb  alphabet  ?  " 

"  A  week  or  so." 

"  He'll  die  any  way,  you  know,"  said  Bede, 
shaking  his  head.  "  This  embarrassment  of  speech 
is  due  to  ataxia,  which  is  a  sure  sign  of  the  coming 
collapse." 

"  O  God  !  "  cried  Besser. 

They  came  up  to  Hubert.  He  was  lying  quietly 
in  bed,  and  Prahl  was  reading  in  a  corner  of  the 
room.  Besser  signed  to  Prahl  to  leave.  Hubert 
was  trying  to  mouth  "  Ed,  Ed  !  "  and  was  stretch- 
ing out  his  hands.  He  then  began  to  use  his 
fingers  in  the  dumb  alphabet,  and  indicated  that 
he  wished  paper  and  ink,  which  they  brought 
him,  together  with  a  little  table.  He  took  the 
pen  and  wrote  something  in  a  tremulous  hand, 
but  it  was  unintelligible.  He  looked  at  Besser 
eagerly,  and  said  in  the  dumb  speech  that  he  was 
wishing  to  release  Violet  forever.     He  began  to 


i^6  THE  DESTROYER 

write  again  :  "  I,  Hubert  Proudfoot "  but  he 

stopped.  The  doctor  encouraged  him.  Besser 
was  waiting,  and  Hubert  looked  anxiously,  and 
for  a  moment  almost  steadily,  at  him.  He  mum- 
bled :  "  N — no,  she's  mine !  "  letting  the  words 
tumble  from  his  lips.  Then  he  began  to  shake 
himself  angrily  from  side  to  side  as  if  he  suspected 
them. 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  Bede,  "  it's  no  use." 

Hubert  continued  to  arraign  them  in  dumb, 
burning  language  and  muffled  oaths,  which  were 
no  less  terrible  because  they  were  muffled. 

"  What's  to  be  done?  "  exclaimed  Besser  when 
they  had  got  out. 

"  Give  him  time,"  said  Bede,  "  he  can't  last  so 
very  long  now ;  and  yet  it's  extraordinary  how 
they  hold  out,  like  tough  fungi." 

"  It'll  be  worse  if  he  die  in  our  hands,"  said 
Besser,  who  often  urged  that  fear  on  the  doctor. 

"Yes,  at  first,  not  afterwards,"  said  Bede. 
"  His  mother  will  be  home  in  ten  days.  Can  you 
trust  your  servant  till  then  ?" 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Besser  as  Bede  left. 

"  Can  I  trust  my  servant  ?  "  he  repeated,  when 
he  was   alone,    "can    I    trust    myself?     I   hate 


'•AH,  love!  somewhat  let  be!"     237 

Hubert ;  I  hate  him  for  not  releasing  her.  It's 
monstrous  that  she  remains  his.  Hubert  is  dead 
— he  is  no  longer  Hubert.  I  am  hers,  she  is 
mine.  .  .  .  Come,  duty,  oh  like  a  fearful  sickle, 
and  cut  away  the  deadly  root  and  nightshade  of 
my  sin  1 " 


BOOK  III 

THE  TWIN  SACRIFICE 


BOOK  HI 
CHAPTER  I 

MRS.    PROUDFOOT   RETURNS 

Dr.  Bede  had  made  a  long  study  of  human  love. 
He  had  heard  the  confessions  and  renunciations 
of  hundreds,  and  yet  he  admitted  that  love  re- 
mained to  him  still  as  great  a  mystery.  Nothing, 
he  said,  was  quite  so  unintelligible  as  beauty  and 
love.  They  might  be  the  beginning  of  all  sorts 
of  moral  totterings.  *'  And  nothing,"  he  wrote 
to  a  disciple,  "  is  clearer  to  me  than  that  beauty 
is  one  of  the  great  disturbing  forces  of  the 
world,  making  mankind  quite  helpless  when  it 
comes.  Beauty  seldom  brings  repose,  if  the  spec- 
tator is  impressionable  at  all."  He  had  had  a 
vast  experience.  He  had  found  hundreds  sitting 
among  the  ruins  of  love.     He  had  witnessed  all 

sorts  of  spiritual  autopsy,  for  men  and  women  had 

241 


242  THE   DESTROYER 

come  to  him  to  lay  bare  their  souls  as  they  had 
never  done  to  any  priest.  "  Have  you  noticed," 
he  wrote  to  his  young  follower,  "  the  blunting  of 
the  features  in  mid  passion?  It  appears  to  be 
caused  by  a  shifting  of  the  centers  of  control." 
Of  course,  he  knew  that  the  individual  may  suc- 
cessfully crucify  himself  by  his  will.  He  was 
observing  it  in  Besser,  for  instance.  "  This  young 
man,"  he  continued  to  his  pupil,  "  is  going  the 
road  of  all  the  saints,  and  it  is  a  wonderful  spec- 
tacle. He  is  dying  inwardly.  Consider  his  posi- 
tion. He  had  loved  this  girl  long  ago.  He  be- 
came a  priest.  Love  quickened  again  within 
him,  and  he  left  the  priesthood,  obeying  a  prin- 
ciple of  St.  Paul:  'It  is  better  to  marry,'  etc. 
He  cannot  deliver  himself  from  his  old  love. 
But,  for  reasons  which  I  cannot  disclose  to  you, 
he  dare  not  approach  her.  The  world  has  a  great 
deal  of  unknown  tragedy,  and  it  is  due  to  those 
inward  reverses  and  distortions." 

On  the  other  hand,  there  was  Violet,  who  had 
already  seen  love's  most  darkened  picture.  But 
her  nature  was  as  responsive  as  Besser's,  and  as 
kindled.  Both  of  them  were  under  that  supreme 
mastery.     They  really  belonged  to  each  other  as 


MRS.   PROUDFOOT   RETURNS  243 

no  two  human  beings  ever  belonged  to  each  other 
before.  It  was  only  ironic  that  Besser,  in  the 
confusion  of  feeling  of  young  manhood,  when  re- 
ligious passion  and  love  are  often  mingled  and  in- 
distinguishable, had  made  a  single  choice.  But 
all  our  passions  are  mixed  up  with  each  other,  as 
everybody  knows  who  knows  anything  about  the 
psychology  of  the  saints.  Besser's  nature,  like 
all  complex  natures,  was  interblended  and  inter- 
fused. He  would  remain  religious  and  emotional 
to  the  very  end,  doubtless.  But,  as  yet,  love 
had  discovered  only  a  subterfuge,  and  the  real 
longing  had  come  back  to  cause  spiritual  be- 
wilderment. Violet  watched  the  strange  oscil- 
lation of  his  moods,  and  guessed  only  half  its 
cause. 

"  D'you  know,"  he  once  said  to  her,  with  a  sort 
of  pale  heat  on  his  face,  "  love  always  forgets  to 
build  a  sepulcher." 

She  answered  nothing,  caught  suddenly  in  a 
strange  illumination. 

"  But  he  should  build  one  ;  it  is  his  place  !  "  he 
continued.     "  He  is  born  for  death." 

"  No,  no,  Edgar,"  she  said,  "he  would  roll  away 
the  stone !  " 


244  THE   DESTROYER 

When  she  called  him  "  Edgar  "  she  must  have 
known  it  was  a  struggle  for  him  not  to  come 
nearer  and  take  her  hand.  She  saw  his  eyes  moist, 
and  she  guessed  and  wondered.  When  he  went 
abruptly  away  she  began  to  think  she  was  sitting 
in  the  darkness  of  unrequited  love  again.  True, 
she  did  not  yet  know  that  it  was  bringing  them 
both  down  in  ruins.  But  now  and  again  she 
wrote  a  word  like  a  throb  in  her  journal.  "  I 
wonder,"  she  wrote,  "  if  in  love,  as  in  religion,  the 
supreme  sacrifice  is  a  broken  spirit."  Nay,  how 
could  they  know  that  they  were  not  yet  full  of  all 
the  anxiety  that  beauty  brings?  Soon  enough  they 
would  be  thinking  that  each  was  sitting  in  the  dust 
of  beauty's  and  each  other's  disdain.  "  Will  he  not 
come  near  me  ? "  she  cried,  with  a  strange  pre- 
monition of  the  consistency  and  symmetry  of  her 
fate,  while  Besser,  with  the  smile  still  loitering, 
almost  like  a  sign  of  conquest,  on  his  face,  ex- 
claimed in  his  loneliness  :  "  This  is  a  slow  crawl 
to  righteousness ! " 

Bede  was  watching  them  both,  and  he  had  con- 
fidences from  each.  His  one  desire  was  to  save 
them.  "They  remind  me,"  he  wrote,  "of  Paolo 
and  Francesca,  though  they  are  innocent."     His 


MRS.   PROUDFOOT  RETURNS  245 

great  fear  was  lest  Hubert  might  linger  too  long. 
Besser  never  tired  of  repeating  that  it  would  be 
all  the  worse  when  the  truth  came  out. 

"  I  admit,"  said  Bede,  "  that  you  must  keep 
your  eye  on  Prahl." 

"  Oh,  he's  all  right,"  said  Besser ;  "  all  the 
others  are  frightened  for  him.  He  keeps  them 
wonderfully  in  order.  But  my  aunt  is  to  be  here 
to-morrow." 

"  That  doesn't  complicate  matters,"  said  Bede. 

"  Does  it  not  ?  "  exclaimed  Besser,  going  to  the 
door  with  him. 

"  Tuts  !  "  said  Bede,  "  are  we  not  carrying  out 
yours  and  his  own  original  idea,  which  was  to 
keep  him  quiet  till  he  was  well  enough  to  see 
Violet.  Well,  then,  he's  not  well  enough  yet, 
and  we  must  wait." 

Besser  shook  his  head  and  closed  the  door. 
Late  at  night  Prahl  knocked  at  the  library. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Besser. 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  Prahl,  "  I  would  like  to 
speak  to  you." 

"  Not  to-night,"  said  Besser.  "  Is  it  impor- 
tant?" 

"  Not  very,  sir." 


246  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Well,  to-morrow  night,"  said  Besser.  "  I've 
enough  to  think  about." 

Next  day  he  went  with  Sir  Saul  Rimmon  to 
meet  Mrs.  Proudfoot.  He  seldom  spoke  to  the 
baronet,  for  whom  he  had  a  personal  dislike.  In 
conversation  they  never  got  beyond  the  com- 
monplaces of  everyday  talk.  But  the  baronet's 
friends  were  dropping  off  one  by  one,  and  he  was 
glad  to  be  seen  in  company  with  the  young  owner 
of  Mulvey  House.  They  drove  in  Sir  Saul's 
landau.  Sir  Saul  asked  Besser  why  he  wasn't 
opening  up  his  house,  and  Besser  replied  that  he 
didn't  mean  to  stay  long. 

"  Ah,  well,  neither  do  I,"  said  the  baronet ; 
"  Mulvey 's  stale." 

"  When  are  you  going  off?  "  asked  Besser. 

"  In  a  week  or  so.  There's  not  a  decent  sports- 
man in  the  place,  and  the  very  birds  are  turning 
tame." 

They  had  arrived  at  the  railway  station,  and 
were  waiting  on  the  platform. 

"  We've  had  a  nice  shine ! "  said  Sir  Saul. 
"  I'm  glad  it's  all  over  now." 

Besser  remained  silent. 

"  I  was  against    it  from  the   first,    but    now 


MRS.   PROUDFOOT   RETURNS  247 

I'm  glad  my  daughter's  a  widow.  Here's  the 
train." 

It  steamed  into  the  station,  and  Mrs.  Proudfoot, 
dressed  in  black,  alighted  not  far  from  where  they 
were  standing.  Sir  Saul  gave  her  his  arm,  and 
they  walked  to  the  carriage.  Mrs.  Proudfoot 
carried  a  box  which  seemed  to  be  extremely 
heavy.  Besser  relieved  her  of  it,  and  was  surprised 
at  the  weight.  It  was  as  heavy  as  stones.  His 
aunt  was  very  pale,  and  seemed  to  have  grown 
much  older.  Also,  she  appeared  to  be  more  lame 
than  before,  and  when  she  sat  back  in  the  carriage 
she  gave  a  sigh. 

"  Where's  the  box,  Edgar?  "  she  asked., 

"  In  front,"  he  said. 

"  Ah ! "  she  whispered  across,  "  it's  some  earth 
from  his  grave,  you  know,  to  plant  a  few  flowers 
in." 

Besser  hardly  knew  where  to  look. 

"  You've  had  a  long,  long  journey,  Mrs.  Proud- 
foot," said  Sir  Saul. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  said.  "  Are  you  all  well  ?  How 
is  Violet?" 

"  I  think  she's  better,"  said  the  baronet. 
"  She's  looking  forward  to  seeing  you." 


248  THE  DESTROYER 

As  they  drove  through  Mulvey  every  one  knew 
who  Mrs.  Proudfoot  was,  and  the  events  of  six 
months  ago  began  to  be  discussed  again.  It  was 
New-Year's  day,  and  the  shops  were  closed.  The 
people  were  in  the  streets.  Those  who  had  been 
at  chapel  were  coming  out,  and  they  nudged  each 
other  as  the  carriage  drove  past. 

"  You  must  come  and  live  with  your  old  aunt 
now  and  again,  Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot. 
"  What  are  you  doing  with  yourself?  " 

"  Oh,  perhaps  he'll  get  married,"  said  Sir  Saul. 
"  An  ex-monk  mightn't  make  a  bad  husband." 

"  I  think  you  were  right,  Edgar,"  said  Mrs. 
Proudfoot.  "  You've  too  many  opportunities 
here  to  throw  away." 

They  were  now  within  the  grounds  of  Rimmon 
House.  Old  Isaac  was  at  the  gate,  and  he  lifted 
his  hat  as  the  carriage  entered.  Lady  Rimmon 
and  Violet  were  waiting  at  the  door. 

"  Will  you  stop  for  lunch?"  said  the  baronet 
to  Besser,  while  Mrs.  Proudfoot  was  embracing 
Violet  and  Lady  Rimmon.     "  Ladies  must  sob." 

Besser  was  prevailed  upon  to  stay. 

"  We're  so  glad  to  see  you  safe,"  said  Lady 
Rimmon,  "  out   of  that  dreadful  island.     I   re- 


MRS.   PROUDFOOT   RETURNS  249 

member  reading  '  Les  Fr^res  Corses,'  by  Dumas 
p}re.     What  people  !     It's  a  wonder  you're  alive." 

Mrs.  Proudfoot  began  to  give  some  of  her  ex- 
periences in  a  subdued  voice.  Violet  asked  many 
questions, 

"  I've  brought,"  she  whispered  to  Violet, 
"some  earth  from  his  grave,  dear.  I'll  give  you 
half  of  it  to  put  in  a  box  to  plant  forget-me- 
nots." 

When  the  conversation  extended  into  details 
about  Hubert's  supposed  grave  it  became  almost 
impossible  for  Besser  to  sit  still.  It  was  likewise 
impossible  for  him  to  disturb  his  aunt  by  casting 
doubts  on  the  authenticity  of  the  reports  she  had 
believed.  She  had  been  taken  to  the  wildest  part 
of  Corsica  which,  owing  to  the  outbreak  of  the  war, 
was  in  a  state  of  disturbance.  The  Consul  at 
Ajaccio  was  absent,  and  his  place  had  been  taken 
by  a  young  Frenchman,who  could  offer  no  definite 
information  about  recent  English  travelers.  But 
at  Liscia  Mrs.  Proudfoot  had  discovered  Hubert's 
guide,  Rotto,  whom  he  had  mentioned  in  his 
letters  long  ago.  He  was  a  rogue,  and  compre- 
hended the  situation  at  once.  A  grave  was  im- 
provised near  a  little  village  at  the  foot  of  Monte 


250  THE  DESTROYER 

Cinto.  When  she  asked  for  his  luggage  Rotto 
told  her  that  he  had  sold  everything  because  he 
was  poor,  and  Hubert  had  expressly  wished  him 
to  do  so.  Rotto's  English  was  extremely  im- 
perfect, but  that  helped  to  darken  matters. 

"  He  worshiped  Hubert,"  said  Mrs.  Proud- 
foot. 

"  Are  you  going  already  ?  "  said  Lady  Rimmon 
to  Besser,  who  had  risen,  "  not  wait  for  the  fruit 
even  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  ! "  he  said,  "  I've  something  to  attend 
to.     Good-by,  aunt." 

He  hurriedly  said  good-by  to  them  all. 

"  When  shall  I  come  over  to  see  you,  Edgar?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Proudfoot. 

"  Oh,  any  time  you  like,"  he  said. 

They  wondered  at  his  haste,  but  he  could  sit 
no  longer.  For  one  thing,  he  was  eager  to  hear 
what  Prahl  had  wished  to  tell  him  the  night  be- 
fore. When  he  arrived  at  Mulvey  House  he 
called  him  into  his  room.  Prahl  began  by  saying 
he  would  like  a  rise  in  his  wages.  Besser  was  as- 
tonished, and  asked  the  reason.  Prahl  replied 
that  it  was  too  humiliating  to  have  to  attend  to  a 
"  mad  gent,"  who  was  becoming  more  mad  every 


MRS.   PROUDFOOT   RETURNS  2$ I 

day.  He  had  been  brought  up  to  other  things, 
and  would  rather  leave  than  bear  it  any  longer. 
Besides,  it  was  no  light  thing  to  have  to  keep  all 
the  servants  in  order,  and  be  responsible  for  their 
gossip.  Prahl  asked,  with  a  sly  look,  how  long 
the  episode  was  to  last. 

"  A  confidant,  sir,  deserves  a  higher  wage  than 
an  ordinary." 

Besser  was  irritated  by  his  demeanor,  and  he 
knew  what  Prahl's  behavior  meant.  He  would 
threaten  to  go,  and  that,  of  course,  would  bring 
Bede's  scheme  to  the  ground.  Prahl  knew  that 
his  master  was  in  love,  and  conceived  that  it  was 
Besser's  object  to  prolong  the  secrecy.  And 
there  was  no  possibility  of  denying  that,  had  it 
not  been  for  Prahl,  the  "  plot,"  as  he  called  it, 
would  have  been  discovered  long  ago.  But  Bes- 
ser remained  firm. 

"  You  are  not  to  suppose,"  he  said,  "  as  a  man 
of  your  experiences  might  be  tempted  to  sup- 
pose, that  you  are  in  a  criminal  secret.  We  are 
acting  under  the  doctor's  instructions.  It  is  not 
a  criminal  but  a  humanitarian  secret,  and  when 
my  friend  becomes  better,  as  we  all  hope,  every 
one  will  feel  grateful  to  us  for  having  saved  him." 


252  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Yes,"  said  Prahl,  with  a  dubious  grin. 

"  Therefore,"  continued  Besser,  '*  although  I 
cannot  compel  you  to  keep  your  trust,  I  can  only 
say  that  it  rests  with  you  to  behave  honorably, 
and  it  will  certainly  be  to  your  advantage.  I 
have  nothing  more  to  say,  Prahl." 

Prahl  left,  crestfallen.  This  unexpected 
straightforward  statement  gave  him  more  trouble 
than  any  dissimulation  on  Besser's  part  could 
ever  have  done.  He  paused  in  his  game  because 
he  was  doubtful  whether  now  and  again  honesty 
might  not  be  the  best  policy. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  PLEBEIAN  WINS 

But  Prahl  wished  to  leave  Mulvey,  and  it 
seemed  possible  to  drive  a  bargain  with  Sir  Saul 
Rimmon.  He  possessed  news  which  would  doubt- 
less astonish  Sir  Saul  Rimmon.  He  had  grown 
tired  of  Mulvey  and  of  English  life,  and  though 
it  might  be  cumbersome  to  take  Miriam  over  the 
continent,  he  could  not  decide  to  leave  her  behind. 
He  agreed  to  suffer  the  conventions  and  get  mar- 
ried, since  there  was  no  other  way  of  winning 
the  aristocratic  little  peasant.  Perhaps  it  was 
due  to  mixed  blood  that  she  was  so  incomparable. 
The  worst  of  it  was,  he  saw  little  of  her.  Fear  of 
Cubitt  prevented  him  visiting  the  home  farm  too 
often.  Cubitt  seemed  doubly  powerful  because 
of  his  ominous  and  persistent  silence.  Old  Isaac 
was  beginning  to  discover  too  many  troubles  of 
his  own  to  offer  much  sympathy  to   the   huge 

peasant.     But,  indeed,  if  Cubitt  required  it,  he 

253 


254  THE   DESTROYER 

made  no  outward  sign.  He  drank  his  beer  and 
ate  his  mutton  as  usual  at  the  table  which  Mother 
Dagon  used  to  spread  for  all  the  laborers.  He 
knew,  perhaps,  more  about  Miriam  than  Miriam 
herself,  but  he  preserved  his  taciturnity.  Yet  he 
was  ready  to  throw  Prahl  into  the  pond  again  if 
the  occasion  should  ever  present  itself.  He  made 
things  so  awkward  for  Miriam  by  his  great  peas- 
ant's disdain  and  natural  haughtiness,  that  she 
was  wishing  to  get  out  of  his  sight.  She  trembled 
at  his  footstep.  But  he  smoked  his  pipe,  and 
read  by  the  fire  all  sorts  of  savage  romances  suited 
to  his  mood.  He  still  worked  tenaciously,  and  it 
looked  as  if  some  day  he  might  fill  Isaac's  place. 
That  day,  to  be  sure,  was  not  far  distant,  be- 
cause Isaac's  work  at  Rimmon  House  was  almost 
at  an  end.  It  might  be  thought  that  innuendo 
and  suspicion  slumbering  for  about  nineteen  years 
had  little  chance  of  doing  much  damage  in  the 
end.  Yet  although  so  many  had  been  playing  a 
double  game  of  gossip,  this  nebulous  condition 
of  rumor  could  hardly  continue  forever.  Years 
often  pass  before  bad  repute  fertilizes  itself. 
And  the  quick  wits  of  Prahl  and  the  declamation 
of  Mabb  might  do  things  in  the  reverse  way  in 


THE   PLEBEIAN   WINS  255 

which,    for  instance,    Euxine    would    have    done 
them. 

Neither  Violet  nor  her  mother  had  become  by 
any  means  insensible  to  the  wound  ;  but  they 
judged  wisely  that  they  would  only  irritate  their 
condition  by  meddling  with  that  vulgarity.  And 
it  has  never  yet  been  discovered  whether  Lady 
Rimmon  really  disbelieved  Euxine's  last  words. 
Long  ago,  indeed,  she  had  decided  to  leave  Mul- 
vey  forever.  She  and  her  husband  appeared  to 
be  disconnected  units.  But  she  had  delayed  her 
departure  for  her  daughter's  sake.  In  spite  of 
Violet's  superior  endowments  there  was  a  close 
bond  between  them  both.  They  lived  in  each 
other's  company  very  intimately  after  Violet's 
misfortune  had  become  half-mitigated  by  the  lapse 
of  time.  For  the  sake  of  private  pride  and  de- 
cency the  House  of  Rimmon  was  carried  on  as  if 
no  taint  had  stained  it,  although,  perhaps,  an 
acute  observer  might  have  described  the  house- 
hold as  being  in  a  state  of  armed  peace.  The 
moral  value  of  the  head  of  the  house  had  been 
discovered  to  be  a  cipher.  He  seemed  almost  to 
acquiesce  in  it,  and  the  weight  and  preponderance 
of  opinion  on    any    matter    had   passed    to    his 


256  THE   DESTROYER 

daughter.  His  sporting  instinct  had  invaded  his 
whole  being.  Everything  was  a  quarry  to  be 
shot  down,  and  he  professed  his  daughter's  accom- 
pHshments  to  be  unintelligible  and  beyond  him  ; 
yet  he  continued  to  bestow  his  immense  charities 
on  Mulvey,  and  since  he  had  been  doing  it  all  his 
life,  they  were  not  to  be  considered  as  acts  of 
cowardice  and  attempts  at  conciliation.  Money, 
of  course,  is  often  a  powerful  protection  to  cow- 
ards, but  he  made  no  display  of  it  for  a  particular 
purpose.  He  was  still  voted  the  most  generous 
proprietor  Mulvey  had  ever  seen,  and  his  benevo- 
lence was  on  so  large  a  scale  that  any  one  who 
professed  to  be  his  enemy  only  made  himself  ludi- 
crous. But  as  he  grew  old  on  the  road  that 
withers  towards  age  he  was  harassed  by  a  vulgar 
circumstance.  Like  most  men,  he  quarreled  with 
his  folly  because  it  had  left  a  trace.  We  blame 
our  egoism  only  when  it  fails  and  leaves  too  broad 
a  mark.  And  thus  it  was  curious  that  he  proposed 
so  late  to  set  out  on  a  journey  in  order  to  deliver 
himself  from  a  society  which  knew  him  through 
and  through.  Perhaps,  after  all,  silent  judgments 
are  the  worst  to  bear.  Any  one  who  is  accused 
has  always  the  chance  that  his  accusation  may  be 


THE  PLEBEIAN  WINS  257 

pronounced  too  vehemently  and  cruelly,  so  that 
the  exaggeration  is  noticed,  and  he  wins  sympa- 
thy on  the  other  side.  Mabb's  onslaught  was, 
after  all,  not  so  vexatious  as  the  proud,  silent  de- 
nunciation of  Violet  and  Lady  Rimmon. 

Miriam  had  told  Prahl  "  the  latest."  Old  Isaac 
had  come  home  from  hearing  Mabb  one  Sunday 
morning.  He  sat  at  the  fireside  in  the  spacious 
barn  roofed  with  oak  beams,  which  served  for  his 
dining-room  and  sitting-room  in  one.  He  bent 
over  the  fire  till  dinner-time,  and  at  dinner  he  said 
nothing  except  the  blessing.     Cubitt  was  away. 

After  dinner  Isaac  resumed  his  seat  at  the  fire,- 
and  slowly  smoked  a  pipe.  Contrary  to  his  usual 
custom  he  did  not  fall  asleep.  The  fire  lighted 
up  his  strong  face  which  was  deeply  plowed  by 
time  and  labor.  Now  and  again  he  emitted  a 
deep,  bass  groan  as  if  something  was  perplexing 
him.  Mother  Dagon  flitted  in  and  out,  and  when 
she  flitted  in  her  eyes  fell  first  on  Isaac,  and  when 
she  flitted  out  she  turned  back  to  look  at  him. 
But  he  seemed  as  still  as  a  stone.  At  regular  in- 
tervals, however,  he  passed  his  right  hand  through 
his  hard,  gray  hair  as  if  in  a  gesture  of  doubt  and 

dumb  surprise.     Once  he  rose  to  put   on  a  log  of 
17 


258  THE  DESTROYER 

wood  which  crackled  after  he  had  laid  it,  and 
then  he  sat  down  again.  He  watched  it  getting 
blacker,  and  then  a  few  mutterings  escaped  him. 

"  Ye've  to  turn  black  before  ye  burn  well,"  he 
said. 

His  dumb  imagination  was  working,  half  awake, 
so  late.  He  rose  and  flung  on  another  log,  put- 
ting the  one  against  the  other  till  they  both 
caught  flame. 

"  A  log  burns  best  in  company  with  another," 
he  said. 

Mother  Dagon  heard  him,  and  flitted  out.  It 
was  their  custom  to  walk  through  the  woods  on 
a  Sunday  afternoon  or  visit  Prince  Euxine's  grave  ; 
but  although  it  was  already  gray,  he  still  sat  beside 
the  fire,  and  he  remained  beside  it  till  supper- 
time.  Mother  Dagon  drew  the  beer  and  served 
him  copiously. 

"  That's  a  fine  brew,  Isaac,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  it's  a  fine  brew  !  "  said  he.  "  Where's 
Mir?" 

"She's  with  Prahl,  I  think,"  said  Mother 
Dagon,  conscious  that  there  was  something 
wrong. 

But  he  said  nothing   more.     She   washed  the 


THE   PLEBEIAN  WINS  259 

dishes,  and  set  the  supper  for  the  laborers,  who 
would  come  in  late,  and  went  early  to  bed.  Isaac 
heard  some  one  come  in. 

"  Is  that  you,  Mir  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  and  came  in. 

"  Sit  here,"  said  he,  and  drew  a  chair  opposite. 

Miriam  told  Prahl  that  Isaac  kept  looking  at 
her  for  a  long  time  without  uttering  a  word. 

"  Till  I  was  sad  for  the  old  chap,"  she  said,  as 
Prahl  laughed.  "  I'm  sure  it  isn't  my  fault  ? 
Though  he's  been  suspecting  it  for  long,  since  he 
took  me  often  to  look  at  me,  it  was  the  first  time 
he  was  awake." 

Old  Isaac  looked  into  the  fire,  and  then  towards 
Miriam  again. 

"  Thou'lt  not  be  kissing  me  to-night,  Mir,"  he 
said. 

"  Why  no  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Oh — oh  !  "  exclaimed  Isaac,  covering  his  face, 
"get  thee  to  bed." 

"  And  d'ye  know,"  said  Miriam  to  Prahl,  "  the 
old  chap  wouldn't  let  me  kiss  him  as  usual,  but 
pressed  his  hands  on  his  face,  and  I  just  kissed 
the  old  hands  instead.  He's  been  a  father  to  me, 
and   is    always  so  kindly-like  !     Much  good  Sir 


26o  THE   DESTROYER 

Saul's  done  me  !  I've  always  felt  as  if  I've  no 
right  to  be  in  the  world.     I  wish  away." 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  Prahl,  "  I'll  make  papa 
stump  up — isn't  that  the  word  ? — a  dowry  for  you, 
and  then  we'll  go." 

He  then  sought  an  interview  with  the  baronet, 
but  found  some  difficulty  in  presenting  himself, 
owing  to  the  suspicions  of  the  baronet's  own 
butler  that  he  was  after  his  place.  Prahl  was  an 
object  of  curiosity  among  all  the  domestics  of 
Mulvey.  They  couldn't  understand  him.  His 
superciliousness  and  his  boast  of  having  traveled 
round  the  world  moved  their  jealousy.  Then  the 
baronet's  man,  a  gaunt  individual,  bald  and  turned 
forty,  was  fully  persuaded  that  the  mysterious 
foreigner  had  come  to  oust  him.  He  surveyed 
Prahl  carefully,  and  asked  the  nature  of  his  errand. 

"  And  what's  that  to  you  ?  "  asked  Prahl  sharply. 

"  Nothing  to  me,  but  perhaps  to  my  master," 
said  the  other  with  a  grimace. 

"  Precisely,"  said  Prahl.     "  Then  let  me  in." 

The  baronet's  man  gave  way. 

"  I'm  only  half  an  Englishman,"  said  Prahl, 
"  but  I'm  worth  ten  of  you." 

The  abject  servant  seemed  to  acquiesce,  and 


THE   PLEBEIAN   WINS  26l 

led  Prahl  in,  awaiting  the  result  with  foreboding. 
He  put  Prahl  into  the  morning-room  where  he 
had  been  before. 

"  Give  that,"  said  Prahl,  handing  a  card  with 
his  name  on  it. 

In  a  few  moments  the  gaunt  butler  came  back, 
and  conducted  Prahl  to  the  baronet. 

"  Dem,  dem,  what  can  /  have  done  ?  "  he  asked 
the  maids  as  the  enemy  protracted  his  visit. 

Meantime,  Sir  Saul  had  asked  Prahl  what  he 
wanted.  Prahl  was  slightly  embarrassed  by  his 
haughty  manner,  and  he  hesitated,  standing  in 
the  middle  of  the  room. 

"  I'm  Mr.  Besser's  man,"  he  said,  "and " 

"  Well,"  asked  the  baronet,  "  have  you  any 
message  from  him  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  but  I  would  like  to  speak  to  you 
about  myself  a  little,  if  you  would  permit." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Sir  Saul,  laying  down  his 
newspaper. 

"  Oh,  I  would  like  to  marry  your — one  of  your 
— servants,  Miriam,  sir." 

"  I  suppose  you  can  marry  her,  then,"  said  the 
baronet,  forcing  a  smile ;  "  you're  a  foreigner, 
aren't  you  ?  " 


262  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Half  a  foreigner,  sir,"  said  Prahl  with  more 
assurance  in  his  tone.     "  My  mother  was  English." 

"  H'm !  you  speak  English  well.  Are  you 
going  to  stay  on  here  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  if  it  paid  to  go  away  we  would 
go.  ...  I  was  just  wondering  if  you  would 
help  us." 

The  baronet  looked  closely  at  him,  and  Prahl 
returned  the  glance  as  acutely. 

"  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  might  feel  inclined  to 
give  Mir  a  little  dowry,  sir,"  said  Prahl  to  the  as- 
tonished baronet. 

"  Little  dowry !     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  if  I  were  taking  Mir  away,  relieving 
Mulvey  of  Mir  .  .  .  and  you  of  her,  sir — well,  I 
thought  you  might  help  us ! " 

The  baronet  disguised  his  feelings  poorly,  and 
he  was  debating  inwardly  what  to  do.  It  was 
peculiar  that  a  foreign  menial  was  forcing  him  in 
his  own  house  to  save  his  pride,  by  doing  what, 
in  any  case,  would  be  equivalent  to  a  confession. 
He  was  being  made  ridiculous  in  his  old  age. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  become  con- 
scious of  his  contempt  of  himself.  Euxine  would 
have   done   the   thing  far  more  gently.     He  re 


THE  PLEBEIAN  WINS  263 

gretted  that  he  had  not  allowed  Euxine  to  man- 
age it  long  ago ;  he  would  have  done  it  so  well. 
Prahl,  however,  was  standing  before  him,  and  was  a 
curious  and  startling  substitute  for  the  dead  man. 
It  was  true  that  he  had  heard  with  satisfaction  of 
Miriam's  rupture  with  Cubitt  and  engagement  to 
the  foreigner.  If  she  married  Cubitt  it  meant  her 
permanence  in  Mulvey.  He  had  proposed,  indeed, 
that  Cubitt  should  take  a  farm  elsewhere,  and  had 
promised  to  stock  it.  But  Cubitt,  with  a  sort  of 
filial  devotion  to  the  land  he  had  plowed  since 
he  was  a  lad,  had  overcome  those  generous  pro- 
posals. Prahl's  advent  seemed  to  offer  a  way  out 
of  the  embarrassment,  but  his  audacity  had  not 
been  taken  into  account.  Prahl  stood  watching 
the  aristocrat's  discomfiture. 

"  Perhaps  you'll  pardon  me,  sir,"  he  continued, 
after  a  pause,  during  which  the  baronet  had  not 
spoken,  "  but  I  think  I  ought  to  know  something 
about  Miriam's  parentage,  since  it's  disputed." 

Here  the  baronet  threw  up  his  shoulders. 

"  I've  helped  some  of  my  masters  before  now, 
sir,"  said  Prahl.  "  Mir  tells  me  there's  been  a 
row  at  the  home  farm,  and  that  her  mother  has 
run  off,  nobody  knows  where.'' 


264  THE  DESTROYER 

*'  Indeed  !  "  said  the  baronet  half  indifferently. 

"And  old  Isaac's  sitting  speechless." 

"  Indeed  !  "  repeated  the  baronet  mechanically. 

He  seemed  difficult  to  move,  and  Prahl  thought 
he  would  let  him  know  that  good  value  could  be 
got  for  his  money,  since  he  was  being  hood- 
winked by  something  going  on  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  his  own  door.  But  just  as  he  was  going  to 
lay  the  bait,  the  baronet  cut  him  short  by  rising 
abruptly  and  going  to  his  desk.  So  Prahl  kept 
his  bait  for  another  occasion,  since  the  minimum 
of  pressure  appeared  to  have  produced  the  desired 
result.  In  fact,  the  baronet  was  writing  out  a 
check  for  ;^2,ooo.  He  did  it,  of  course,  for 
Miriam's  sake. 

"  Take  it,"  he  said,  "  and  never  let  me  see  your 
or  her  face  again." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Prahl. 

•*  Ah,  very  well,  good  morning ! "  said  the 
baronet. 

Prahl  stood  waiting. 

"  You're  not  satisfied?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Prahl,  "  if  you  doubled  this,  I 
might  give  you  some  information  that  would 
startle  you." 


THE   PLEBEIAN  WINS  265 

"  Startle  me  ? "  repeated  Sir  Saul  with  an 
anxious  glance  at  the  sinister  foreigner. 

"  I  would  have  to  know  how  much  you  would 
give  me,  sir." 

"  Is  it  important  to  me  ?  '* 

"  Yes." 

The  baronet  was  growing  suspicious,  and  began 
to  think  he  was  being  humbugged.  On  the  other 
hand,  Prahl  changed  his  tactics  again,  and  saw 
that  delay  might  bring  a  better  occasion. 

"  Oh  well,  sir,  another  time,"  said  Prahl  as  he 
left. 

"  No  ;  stop,  man  !  "  cried  the  baronet. 

"  Another  time,  sir,"  repeated  Prahl,  and  shut 
the  door. 

And  not  the  least  of  the  baronet's  chagrins  that 
day  consisted  in  the  feeling  that  the  foreign 
menial  was  somehow  his  superior,  although  it 
was  mitigated  by  the  extraordinary  and  inexpli- 
cable obsequiousness  of  his  own  man.  It  was  the 
first  time  he  felt  that  long  years  of  moral  dodging 
had  made  him  at  last  weak. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD  THE  TRUTH 

During  the  first  days  of  her  visit  Mrs.  Proud- 
foot  was  often  with  her  daughter-in-law.  She 
seemed  to  recognize  that  it  was  her  duty  to  com- 
fort her,  and  Violet  reciprocated  the  sympathy. 
They  talked  much  of  Hubert,  and  Violet  felt 
drawn  towards  the  pale,  sufTering  lady  whom  age 
and  infirmity  had  not  prevented  from  undertaking 
a  long  and  painful  journey  in  search  of  her  son. 
On  the  other  hand,  Mrs.  Proudfoot  was  anxious 
to  settle  money  on  Violet  as  Hubert's  wife.  In 
the  hurry  of  the  marriage  these  things  had  been 
left  undone.  But  Mrs.  Proudfoot  now  asked  Sir 
Saul's  cooperation,  and  made  a  generous  provi- 
sion for  Violet's  widowhood.  She  had  brought 
down  his  portrait  from  London,  and  they  all 
looked  at  it  before  it  was  hung  in  the  dining-room. 
Sir  Saul  observed  that  he  was  like  the  bishop, 

Mrs.  Proudfoot's  father,  whom  he  remembered 

266 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD    267 

having  seen  at  the  consecration  of  St.  Bride's  at 
Mulvey,  but  Mrs.  Proudfoot  pointed  out  that 
there  was  no  resemblance  at  all.  It  was  his  other 
grandfather  whom  he  resembled,  both  in  appear- 
ance and  character.  They  then  began  to  discuss 
the  influence  of  parents  on  their  children,  and 
confessed  themselves  a  little  troubled  by  the 
thought  of  the  transmission  of  character  from  one 
generation  to  another.  Lady  Rimmon  refused 
to  believe  it. 

"  But  you  would  like  to  believe  it,"  said  Violet, 
"  if  only  your  good  qualities  were  reproduced,  and 
you  saw  them  working  again  before  your  eyes." 

"  Oh,  I  believe  it,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  "  though 
it's  a  mystery,  and  it  makes  motherhood  such  a 
serious  affair." 

"  I  certainly  would  not  like  to  believe  it," 
exclaimed  Lady  Rimmon,  "  especially  if  I  were 
you  ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Violet,  "  I'm  modern  enough  to 
believe  that  the  moral  survey  of  an  individual 
should  be  preceded  by  a  physiological  survey,  if 
you  wish  to  judge  him  scientifically.  Edgar  tells 
me  be  has  found  an  esthetic  basis  for  morals. 
We  object  to  bad  people  because  they're  nasty." 


268  THE   DESTROYER 

"  Oh,"  said  Sir  Saul,  "  Edgar's  a  monk, 
and  monks  are  the  most  inconsistent  people 
alive." 

"  He's  not  a  monk,"  said  Lady  Rimmon. 

*'  The  only  thing  I  ever  remember  from  the 
history  class  at  college,"  continued  Sir  Saul,  "  is 
that  we  owe  gunpowder  to  a  monk.  It's  the 
most  ironical  thing  in  the  world." 

"  Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  "  has  some  gun- 
powder of  his  own." 

*'  You  mean  he's  passionate  ? "  asked  Lady 
Rimmon. 

"  Oh,  he's  plenty  of  fire,"  broke  in  Violet,  and 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  nodded  assent,  as  if  that  was  her 
meaning. 

"  I  wonder  why  he's  not  coming  over  oftener," 
said  Lady  Rimmon.  "  His  monk's  experience 
has  made  him  shy  for  one  thing." 

"  He  was  always  a  hard  student,"  said  his 
aunt,  '•  and  I  suppose  he's  busy  at  something. 
But  I'll  go  over  to-night  and  take  him  by  sur- 
prise." 

The  truth  was,  that  Lady  Rimmon  was  begin- 
ning to  think  that  Mrs.  Proudfoot  was  rather  "  in 
the  way."     Instead  of  doing  Violet  any  good,  she 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD   269 

seemed  to  be  doing  her  harm  by  recalling  events 
that  were  happily  passed,  although,  perhaps,  they 
could  never  be  forgotten.  Still,  Violet  had  been 
much  brighter  before  her  mother-in-law's  arrival. 
The  perpetual  reference  to  Hubert  became  irk- 
some. Besides,  Lady  Rimmon  gave  her  own  ex- 
planation of  Besser's  rare  visits.  She  supposed 
them  due  to  the  fact,  that,  in  the  presence  of  his 
aunt,  he  could  hardly  display  the  affection  for 
Violet  which  she  felt  sure  was  quickening  within 
him.  That  would  be  to  oust  too  quickly  Hu- 
bert's memory.  And  yet  it  was  precisely  what 
Lady  Rimmon  wished  to  see  accomplished.  She 
was  really  living  for  the  sake  of  her  daughter, 
and  her  stay  at  Mulvey  would,  doubtless,  come 
to  an  end  whenever  Violet  was  settled.  She  had 
sacrificed  her  pride  to  attain  it,  and  she  felt  sure 
that  at  last  Violet's  happiness  would  be  secured. 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  might  see  for  herself,  thought 
Lady  Rimmon,  that  Violet  had  already  out- 
grown her  widowhood.  Indeed,  it  seemed  im- 
possible to  consider  her  a  widow  at  all.  She 
had  been  a  few  hours  married,  and  the  thing  had 
come  suddenly  to  an  end.  In  any  case,  it  was 
an  extraordinary    situation,    because,  when   her 


270  THE  DESTROYER 

mother-in-law  spoke  of  Hubert,  Violet's  thoughts 
were  really  elsewhere.  She  blushed  at  the  new 
birth  of  love,  but  she  knew  that  it  was  the  su- 
preme gift  of  her  life.  She  had  been  true  to  it 
till  the  last  possible  moment,  and  now  it  was  only 
a  re-discovery  of  hidden  treasure  once  fully  pos- 
sessed. The  "  cathedral  priest,"  as  she  had  called 
him,  had  come  back,  "  swinging  a  sad  censer  " 
indeed.  And  she  burned  that  she  had  not  had 
faith  in  her  own  prophecy  of  his  return.  Yet  he 
had  seemed  to  be  lost  forever,  dedicated  to 
austerer  things,  while  she  had  accepted  in  his 
place  the  poorer  offerings  of  another.  "  How 
can  I  help  myself  ?  "  she  wrote  in  her  book.  "  I 
know  I  am  being  brightened  again,  the  way  dead 
timber  is  glorified  by  fire ! "  Therefore,  her 
mother-in-law's  daily  scrutiny  of  the  past  ap- 
pealed to  her  not  at  all,  and  became  even  heart- 
breaking. That  mirage  was  past.  But  she  ad- 
mitted to  herself  that  Besser  appeared  to  be  an 
uneasy  lover,  and  she  shared  her  mother's  belief 
that  his  reserve  was  due  to  his  aunt's  presence. 
He  had  come  once  in  a  state  of  great  perturba- 
tion as  if  he  had  something  to  communicate, 
and  had  asked  if  his  aunt  was  near.     He  seemed 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD   2/1 

exasperated  to  have  to  go  away  without  saying 
a  word. 

"  Mother,"  said  Violet,  "  the  future  will  be  like 
the  past,  full  of  accidents !  " 

"  I  must  speak  to  her,  you  know,"  said  Lady 
Rimmon. 

She  took  the  opportunity  before  Mrs.  Proud- 
foot  went  over  to  see  Besser,  although  she  had 
been  already  suggesting  the  situation  by  references 
which  Mrs.  Proudfoot  could  hardly  fail  to  under- 
stand. Mrs.  Proudfoot,  however,  appeared  to  be 
quite  unprepared  for  the  news.  She  was  invari- 
ably impassive,  except  when  she  spoke  of  Hu- 
bert, and  then  she  wept.  Violet's  widowhood 
had  been  too  brief  to  lead  any  one  to  expect  a 
second  marriage.  And  certainly  it  did  not  change 
things  in  the  least  when  Lady  Rimmon  pointed 
out  that  Violet  could  hardly  be  considered  to 
have  been  married  at  all.  The  fact  that  Mrs. 
Proudfoot  had  only  a  day  or  two  ago  made  a 
large  provision  for  her  daughter-in-law  made  the 
announcement  still  more  painful. 

"You  know,"  said  Lady  Rimmon  tentatively, 
while  they  were  sitting  in  the  drawing-room, 
"  Violet's  had  very  little  pleasure  in  life." 


272  THE  DESTROYER 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  "  she  knows 
more  about  the  dark  things  than  you  or  I  with 
our  gray  hair." 

"I  would  like  to  see  her  settled,"  said  Lady 
Rimmon,  while  Mrs.  Proudfoot  looked  at  her  with 
some  surprise. 

Mrs.  Proudfoot  offered  no  response. 

"  You  know  it's  bad  for  a  girl  like  her,"  con- 
tinued Lady  Rimmon,  "to  sit  so  long  on  the 
roost." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  she's  thinking  of 
marrying  soon  again?"  asked  Mrs.  Proudfoot 
with  a  slight  tremor. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  might  see  how  it  is,"  replied 
Lady  Rimmon.    "  Have  you  not  noticed  Edgar  ?  " 

Mrs.  Proudfoot  looked  across  with  astonish- 
ment in  her  face. 

"  Have  you  not  observed  anything  ? "  con- 
tinued Lady  Rimmon. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  faltering, 
"well  ...  I  must  say  I  am  surprised,  you 
see.  .  .  .  He  has  struck  me  as  being  strange 
these  past  few  days.  .  .  ." 

"  They  loved  each  other  long  ago,"  said  Lady 
Rimmon,  "  before  he  was  a  priest." 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD   273 

"Before  Hubert?"  asked  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  with 
the  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lady  Rimmon.  "  It's  been  such 
a  roundabout  thing  .  .  .  and  Violet  tells  me 
that  .  .  .  Hubert  used  often  to  say  that  she 
should  marry  Edgar!  She  will  surrender  her 
portion." 

Mrs.  Proudfoot  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hand- 
kerchief. 

"  Oh,  I'm  in  the  road,  then,"  she  said,  sob- 
bing. 

"  No,"  said  Lady  Rimmon  gently,  "  not  that ! 
But  Edgar  does  seem  shy.  You  would  have 
Violet  for  a  niece,  you  know ! " 

"  I  wish  them  every  happiness,  then,"  said  Mrs. 
Proudfoot,  "  for  Hubert's  sake.  I  can  take  back 
his  portrait." 

"  Oh,  don't  speak  like  that,  my  dear ! "  said 
Lady  Rimmon ;  "  you'll  be  nearer  to  us  than 
ever." 

"  It's  come  about  so  quickly !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Proudfoot. 

"  Don't  say  anything  direct  to  Edgar  this  after- 
noon," said  Lady  Rimmon.     "  He's  never  really 

declared  himself.     We  are  waiting,  but  any  one 
18 


274  THE  DESTROYER 

can  see  his  intentions.  He  needs  a  little  encour- 
agement." 

Before  going  over  to  Besser's,  Mrs.  Proudfoot 
went  to  her  daughter-in-law,  and  kissed  her,  and 
took  her  hand.     Violet  wondered  what  she  meant. 

"  Your  mother  has  been  telling  me,  Violet.  I 
am  glad  for  your  sake." 

Violet  was  embarrassed,  and  hardly  knew  what 
to  do.  She  said  it  was  foolish  of  her  mother  to 
make  such  premature  statements.  It  put  her  in 
a  false  position.  She  asked  her  mother-in-law 
to  make  no  reference  to  Besser  about  it  since 
nothing  was  certain.  She  could  not  deny  that 
he  had  come  often  to  see  her,  but  had  not  even 
whispered  a  proposal. 

"  Oh,  I  know  Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot. 
"  That  is  his  way.  When  I  begin  to  think  of  it, 
it  will  be  the  best  thing,  poor  child,  for  you  and 
us  all.  Only  I  was  surprised !  You  will  not  for- 
get me?" 

"  Really,"  said  Violet,  trying  to  smile,  "  it's  too 
foolish  of  mamma  to  go  on  like  this." 

"  No,  no,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  "  she  is 
looking  to  your  future  happiness.  It  would  come 
to  this  any  way,  and  there's  no  use  delaying. 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD   2/5 

We  shall  not  see  your  happiness  if  it  does  not 
come  soon." 

"  Promise  me  to  say  nothing  to  Edgar,"  per- 
sisted Violet.  "  I  call  him  *  Edgar  *  because  we 
have  known  each  other  since  we  were  children." 

"Ah!  that's  it,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  smiling 
through  her  tears,  and  going  away. 

Meantime  Besser  was  not  expecting  his  aunt's 
visit.  He  had  been  sitting  in  his  room  all  day, 
although  it  was  with  difficulty  he  had  kept  from 
going  to  Rimmon  House.  He  wondered  whether 
the  moral  egoism  of  his  victory  would  be  worth 
the  pain  and  humiliation  it  would  cause  others. 
The  moral  preponderance  of  a  saint,  he  thought 
— supposing  a  saint  were  possible — is  got  at  a 
great  cost.  He  rises  amid  the  ruins  of  others, 
and  is  unintelligible  apart  from  the  contrast. 
One  brand  plucked  from  the  burning  is,  after  all, 
only  one  brand,  and  the  others  that  remain  to 
burn  are  necessary  for  the  moral  spectacle.  It 
was  strange  that  man  and  God  were  always  to 
meet  in  that  paradox.  Obviously  he  had  already 
broken  the  subtler  commandment  as  interpreted 
by  Jesus.  Society  might  never  know  it.  He 
would  never  be  condemned,  but  the  moral  con- 


2^6  THE   DESTROYER 

fusion  was  already  perfect  within  him.  And  yet 
a  certain  contempt  of  sharing  the  ordinary  routine 
of  temptation  pervaded  him.  He  indulged  in 
spiritual  laughter  over  the  farce  of  it.  He  was 
too  proud  to  be  guilty.  He  had  more  to  do  than 
pilfer  miserable  things  out  of  the  till-box  of  vice. 
Perhaps,  he  said,  the  consciousness  of  having  an 
audience  was  one  of  the  advantages  of  being 
human.  He  looked  at  the  smiling  hazards  of 
life.  "  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  if  there  are  saints, 
and  if  they  live  anywhere  beyond  this  world, 
they  look  on  their  lives  here  with  the  sort  of 
satisfaction  you  have  in  looking  at  the  dirty 
water  of  the  bath  you  have  come  out  of ! " 
Meantime  it  was  his  task  to  keep  the  present  and 
the  future  clean. 

What  was  the  thing  to  be  most  feared  in  life? 
It  was  not  disease,  not  death,  not  judgment,  not 
disrepute  nor  bullets,  nor  the  weapons  of  enemies, 
but  desire,  when  it  awakes.  Well,  he  was  dis- 
obeying it,  and  it  was  breaking  him  in  pieces. 
Hubert  had  obeyed  it  too  thoroughly.  Perhaps 
it  might  be  disobeyed  too  thoroughly. 

So  it  is  a  saint's  business,  is  it,  to  carry  on  that 
necrosis  till  he  can  say  not  merely  that  he  is  dead 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD   277 

unto  sin,  but  that  his  body  is  destroyed  ?  He 
has  to  elevate  his  moral  consciousness  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  esthetic :  he  is  to  avoid  beauty  and 
ruin  his  own.  In  any  case,  those  who  refuse  to 
be  driven  into  the  huge  slave  market  of  instinct 
may  suffer  all  sorts  of  secret  distortions  and  pil- 
lage. So  the  doctors  said :  the  ecstasies  of  the 
saints,  and  the  spiritual  excitement  of  the  flagel- 
lants, were  the  inverted  form  of  human  love? 
That  was  what  the  new  psychology  taught.  Was 
it  true  ?  he  asked.  He  did  not  know.  At  any 
rate,  it  was  also  true  that  virtue  is  like  a  uniform 
that  gives  distinction  to  the  commonest.  He 
was  too  busy  with  his  own  unquiet  problem  to 
solve  such  questions  as  these,  though  he  was  be- 
wildered by  the  alternative.  "  If  they  only 
knew,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  Wickedness  walking 
incognito,  and  also  Pain." 

These  exaggerations  were  likely  to  go  on  in- 
creasing after  his  aunt  came  to  congratulate  him, 
as  well  as  she  could,  on  his  approach  to  Violet. 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  came  in,  leaning  heavily  on  her 
stick.  She  had  walked  over  from  Rimmon 
House.  She  seemed  to  be  agitated,  and  she 
sank  into  a  chair  exhausted. 


2/8  THE   DESTROYER 

"  I'm  getting  old,  Edgar,  and  the  terrible  strain 
has  begun  to  tell  upon  me.  The  journey  was 
terrible  ! " 

She  took  off  her  cloak  because  she  was  warm 
with  exertion.  "  Edgar,"  she  continued,  "  I've 
come  over  to  tell  you  that  you  must  not  keep 
from  visiting  the  Rimmons  because  of  me." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  aunt  ?  " 

"  You  mustn't  suppose  that — that  I  am  hurt 
because  Violet  and  you  are  coming  so  close  to 
each  other — after — so  soon  after " 

"  Who  is  saying  this  ?  "  asked  Besser  excitedly, 
and  reddening. 

"  Oh,  I  might  have  seen  it,  Edgar.  It's  only 
natural.  Don't  put  yourself  about.  After  the 
little  surprise  I  may  almost  say  I  am  glad.  I 
believe  Hubert  would  wish  it." 

"Aunt,  I  tell  you  it  could  never  be !  " 

"  Edgar,  what  is  the  use  of  denying  it.  No 
one  wishes  you  to.  Violet  has  suffered  so  much 
that  we  should  be  thankful  for  this  new  love  you 
are  giving  her." 

Besser  rose  and  walked  about  the  room  while 
his  aunt  leant  back  in  her  chair,  muttering  that 
"  nothing  could  really  be  better." 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD    279 

"  Aunt  !  "  he  exclaimed,  walkiiig  back  to  her 
and  taking  a  chair  to  sit  beside  her,  "  I  am  driven 
at  last  to  tell  you  what  I  hope  will  not  excite  you 
too  much." 

His  own  manner  was  so  excited  that  it  was  con- 
tagious, and  Mrs.  Proudfoot  began  to  sit  up  in 
her  chair. 

"  Now,  calm  yourself !  "  said  Besser,  speaking 
rapidly.     "  Keep  quiet !  " 

"  Oh,  what  is  it?  Edgar,  quick  !  "  gasped  his 
aunt,  while  he  took  her  hand, 

"  It's  news  that  will  rejoice  you,  and  also  appal 
you  because  of  its  strangeness." 

She  implored  him  by  her  eyes,  to  tell  her  it 
quick,  and  when  he  told  her,  she  almost  fainted 
under  the  shock,  and  sat  speechless.  He  ran  for 
a  little  brandy  to  revive  her,  while  the  word 
"  Impossible ! "  fell  from  her  lips.  She  was 
deathly  pale,  and  her  lips  were  twitching. 

"  Edgar  !  "  she  exclaimed,  detaching  the  words 
from  each  other  in  short  spasms,  "  it's  a  halluci- 
nation of  your  own  !     What  can  it  mean  ?  " 

He  made  her  rise. 

"  Come !  "  he  said,  almost  lifting  her. 

She  went  tottering  with  him. 


280  THE  DESTROYER 

"  I  am  old,"  she  said,  afraid,  "  and  the  world 
seems  to  become  stranger  every  day.  What  is 
this  ?     I  do  not  understand." 

He  gave  her  his  arm,  and  they  went  slowly  up 
the  stairs.  She  stopped  and  asked  him  if  he  was 
in  his  right  mind.  He  told  her  hurriedly  he  had 
found  Hubert  in  Paris. 

"  But  I  saw  his  grave  in  Corsica  !  "  she  said. 

"You've  been  robbed  and  cheated,"  he  said. 
"  He's  perfectly  quiet  now.  He  can't  speak  ex- 
cept with  his  fingers." 

The  old  lady  seemed  loath  to  go,  and  unutter- 
able feelings  took  possession  of  her. 

"Let  me  stop!  Let  me  take  breath!"  she 
said. 

Besser  noticed  that  the  end  of  her  stick  was 
frayed,  evidently  by  heavy  leaning  on  it. 

"  This  is  too  sudden,"  she  said  ;  "  but  let  us  go. 
My  son  was  dead  and  is  alive  again  !    I  am  afraid  ! " 

She  was  perhaps  dismayed  by  an  imagination 
of  all  the  horror  that  might  have  to  be  lived  over 
again,  and  it  made  her  half  jealous  of  the  dead. 
They  arrived  at  the  door  where  Prahl  was  sitting 
as  if  on  guard.  Prahl  was  surprised  that  the  old 
lady  was  going  to  enter.     She  was  the  first  visitor 


THE  ELDER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD       28 1 

Hubert  had  ever  had.  She  paused  at  the  door, 
turning  round  with  a  look  of  inquiry  and  terror 
on  her  nephew,  but  he  urged  her  to  go  forward. 
"  He  was  lost  and  is  found  ! "  said  Besser,  press- 
ing her  hand.  They  came  into  the  darkened 
room,  and  Hubert  immediately  sat  up  in  bed. 

"  Light,  light  I  "  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot.  "  Draw 
the  blinds  !  Let  me  see  him." 

Besser  drew  the  blinds.  Hubert  seemed  to  rec- 
ognize his  mother,  and  threw  out  his  arms,  strug- 
gling to  speak.  She  went  forward  with  a  slight 
cry,  and  gathered  him  to  her  bosom  amid  his 
dumb  babblement  of  the  irreparable. 


CHAPTER  IV 

SUSPENSE 

Lady  Rimmon  and  Violet  were  surprised  when 
a  message  came  over  from  Mulvey  House  that 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  intended  to  remain  with  her 
nephew.  They  at  once  supposed  that  she  had  been 
offended  by  the  news  of  Violet's  friendship  with 
Besser,  and  their  feelings  became  embittered. 
And  when  Besser's  carriage  came  for  his  aunt's 
boxes  and  her  maid,  their  explanation  of  the  new 
turn  of  events  seemed  more  justified  than  ever. 
In  her  note  Mrs.  Proudfoot  made  some  lame  ex- 
cuse that  she  had  sat  late  with  her  nephew,  and 
was  too  lazy  to  think  of  returning  to  Rimmon 
House.  But  when,  next  morning,  another  note 
came  with  the  carriage,  intimating  that  she  would 
just  remain  for  the  present  with  Besser,  the  hol- 
lowness  of  the  previous  night's  excuse  became 
apparent.     Lady  Rimmon  and  Violet  sat  talking 

all  day.     They  had  no  intention  of  going  over  to 
282 


SUSPENSE  283 

Mulvey  House  to  seek  an  explanation.  Their 
own  conjectures  appeared  to  be  too  probable  to 
require  it,  and  their  presence  at  Mulvey  House 
was  evidently  the  last  thing  that  was  desired. 
The  cold  manner  in  which  at  first  Mrs.  Proudfoot 
had  listened  to  Lady  Rimmon's  tale  of  Besser's 
affection  for  Violet  was  now  explicable.  It  was 
too  obvious  that  her  jealousy  had  been  aroused. 

"  It's  wicked  of  her  to  put  him  against  us,"  said 
Lady  Rimmon.  "  I  always  distrusted  her.  I 
must,  after  all,  go  over,  you  know !  " 

Violet  implored  her  mother  to  remain  where 
she  was,  and  although  she  was  greatly  disturbed, 
she  put  as  charitable  an  explanation  as  possible 
on  her  mother-in-law's  conduct. 

"  She'll  come  back  in  a  day  or  two,  mother. 
It's  perfectly  natural.  She  spoke  about  going 
over  the  very  day  she  came.  I  expect  Edgar 
every  minute.  And,  besides,  it's  not  possible  to 
suppose  that  his  aunt  could  have  such  an  in- 
fluence over  him.  She  meant  Avhat  she  said,  when 
she  said  she  wished  to  see  me  happy." 

When  Lady  Rimmon  suggested  that  Violet 
should  surrender  all  that  Mrs.  Proudfoot  had  set- 


284  THE  DESTROYER 

tied  on  her  as  Hubert's  widow,  Violet  said  it  would 
be  unkind,  and  at  any  rate  it  was  better  to  wait. 
And  yet  she  could  not  deny  that  she  had  felt  em- 
barrassed in  Mrs.  Proudfoot's  presence.  For  she 
had  to  play,  against  her  inclination,  a  double  part. 
Her  long  sorrow  was  dying  out,  and  it  seemed 
cruel  to  delay  its  poignancy.  When  her  mother- 
in-law  spoke  of  Hubert,  Violet  was  thinking  of 
Besser.  It  was  only  now  that  she  began  to  see 
that  she  had  not  loved  Hubert  so  much  as  pitied 
him.  It  was  not  so  much  love  as  sympathy  and 
her  own  loneliness  which  had  united  them  so 
fatally.  She  had  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of. 
Rather,  she  was  able  to  rejoice  that  her  experi- 
ence had  made  her  will  so  strong.  She  had  no 
perilous  ambition.  She  had  known  sorrow,  and 
was  still  capable  of  joy.  When  the  old-new  love 
came  back,  she  felt  it  was  doubly  sacred.  "  Birds 
sing  after  the  rain  stops,"  she  wrote  in  her  jour- 
nal. She  had  known  Love  as  a  Destroyer,  but 
now  he  was  coming  as  a  healer  and  appeaser. 
And  it  was  well  she  already  knew  the  dark  things 
that  are  in  the  world,  she  said,  because  it  helped 
her  to  be  grateful  for  a  piece  of  genuine  bright- 
ness when  she  found  it.     She  was  still  midway  in 


SUSPENSE  285 

the  twenties,  not  grown  old  because  of  premature 
trouble.  She  had  been  long  spelling  out  moral 
grammar,  and  now  she  was  perfect  for  her  duties. 
The  delicacy  of  Besser's  wooing  increased  her 
love,  and  the  feeling  of  personal  imperfection, 
which  intense  love  always  brings,  became  almost 
a  pain  in  her.  She  wrote  in  her  book  that  she 
was  unworthy  of  him.  His  vast  power  of  self-con- 
trol, centered  in  a  vehement  and  upheaved  sort  of 
nature,  moved  her  to  emulation.  Therefore,  like 
himself,  she  was  content  to  wait,  assured  of  him, 
delaying  those  quickenings.  It  was  too  mean  to 
suppose  that  Mrs.  Proudfoot  had  a  plot  against  her. 

And,  indeed,  Mrs.  Proudfoot  had  no  plot,  but 
the  shock  of  the  truth  had  made  it  impossible  for 
her  to  see  them.  After  she  had  sufficiently  re- 
covered she  asked  Besser  to  send  for  Dr.  Bede. 
When  he  came  they  held  a  consultation,  during 
which  Besser  offered  to  send  for  Violet.  But 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  shook  her  head,  and  agreed  with 
the  doctor  that  it  would  do  no  good  but  a  great 
deal  of  harm. 

"  I  have  been  telling  him  so  all  through,"  said 
Bede,  "  and  I  am  glad  you  have  come,  and  ap- 
prove." 


286  THE  DESTROYER 

Mrs.  Proudfoot's  chief  anxiety  was  to  know 
how  long  Hubert  would  last.  Dr.  Bede  could 
give  her  no  exact  information.  He  pointed  out 
that,  in  such  cases,  the  patient  generally  sank 
into  a  sort  of  vegetative  condition,  after  all  the 
higher  functions  had  ceased  to  act.  He  expressed 
himself  surprised  at  Hubert's  vitality,  and  ad- 
mitted privately  to  Besser,  as  if  he  were  sorry, 
that  he  might  last  a  few  months  yet.  The  im- 
mediate question,  however,  was  whether  or  not 
they  should  remove  him,  and  whether  the  Rim- 
mons  should  be  told  the  truth.  To  Besser's  sur- 
prise his  aunt  seemed  adverse  to  his  proposal  to 
let  Violet  know  at  once.  She  shrank  from  the 
publicity  from  which  she  had  already  suffered,  and 
besides,  she  said  it  would  be  fatal  both  to  Violet 
and  Hubert.  She  expressed  surprise  at  the  man- 
ner in  which  Besser  had  carried  out  the  doctor's 
instructions,  and  thanked  him  till  the  tears 
dropped.  Her  own  wish  was  to  remove  Hubert 
to  London,  and  she  tried  to  discover  a  feasible 
plan.  Bede  shook  his  head.  When  Besser  asked 
what  explanation  she  would  offer  the  Rimmons, 
she  said  she  would  brave  it  as  well  as  she  could. 
They  knew  she  had  intended  to  stay  with  him  in 


SUSPENSE  287 

any  case.  But  the  greatest  surprise  was  still  in 
store,  for  Mrs.  Proudfoot  assured  Besser  that  his 
relations  to  Violet  in  no  way  disturbed  her — in- 
deed, she  wished  him  to  continue  them :  and 
when  she  heard  from  Bede  that  Hubert  had  more 
than  once  expressed  a  desire  to  release  Violet, 
and  had  once  actually  attempted  it,  she  said  she 
was  convinced  that  she  was  right  when  she  wished 
her  nephew  and  Violet  to  be  happy.  Hubert 
was  beyond  recall.  She  would  take  care  of  him. 
Not  that  she  wished  Besser  to  marry  Violet :  she 
only  delicately  hinted  that,  in  any  case,  the  future 
was  theirs. 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me,  Edgar,"  said  Mrs. 
Proudfoot.  "  I  do  not  mean  that  you  can  take 
Violet  to  be  your  wife  yet.  But  it  is  clear  that 
you  belong  to  each  other,  and  that  Hubert " 

Here  she  broke  down. 

"  It  is  all  so  strange,"  she  continued,  "  and  I 
am  bewildered  by  all  I  have  come  through  ! " 

"  I  expect  that  Lady  Rimmon  will  come  over," 
said  Besser.  "  And  you  may  be  prepared  for  the 
worst." 

"Ah,  my  dear  boy ! "  she  said,  "  I  am  old,  and 
the  worst  shouldn't  frighten  me  any  more." 


288  THE   DESTROYER 

She  made  Besser  tell  her  over  and  over  again 
how  he  had  found  him,  and  then  repeated  to  him 
all  the  details  of  the  Corsican  roguery.  During 
the  next  three  days  she  nursed  Hubert,  who 
hardly  opened  his  eyes,  while  Prahl  watched 
everything  with  eyes  that  were  very  wide  open. 
But  he  confessed  himself  astonished  at  Besser's 
conduct,  and  pronounced  him  to  be  still  a  hope- 
less "  youngling."  His  interest  in  the  game  sud- 
denly increased  one  day  when  he  announced  Lady 
Rimmon,  and  he  was  not  surprised  when  Besser 
started  at  the  news.  It  looked  as  if  the  "  affair," 
as  he  called  it,  could  not  hang  on  long  now.  Mrs. 
Proudfoot  said  she  would  come  down  directly, 
whispering  to  Besser  that  it  was  the  first  time  in 
her  long  life  that  she  had  seen  the  necessity  of 
lies.  What  could  they  do  ?  They  could  not  stop 
to  discover  whether  it  was  right  or  wrong.  They 
were  driven  to  conceal,  for  a  few  moments,  the 
ugliness  of  reality  from  eyes  it  would  have  hurt. 
Besser  went  first,  and  Lady  Rimmon,  when  she 
shook  hands  with  him,  said  nothing,  but  looked 
curiously  at  him,  as  if  trying  to  discover  in 
his  appearance  the  meaning  of  the  estrange- 
ment. 


SUSPENSE  289 

"  Oh  ! "  he  said  rather  awkwardly,  "  I  should 
have  been  over." 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  Really,  you'll  excuse  me 
just  coming  to  ask.  I  thought  it  was  the  best 
and  broadest-minded  thing  to  do.  We're  aston- 
ished !     What's  wrong  ?  " 

"  Really,  nothing  at  all,  Lady  Rimmon,"  re- 
plied Besser.  "  My  aunt  just  took  it  into  her 
head  to  stay  here.  You  know  her  ways,  I  sup- 
pose.    She'll  be  down  directly." 

"  Oh,  I'm  glad  !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon,  a  little 
assured,  and  trying  to  laugh  outright.  "  We 
thought — oh,  well,  I  don't  know  what,  you  know ! 
Has  your  aunt  not  been  well  ?" 

"  No,  she's  not  been  well,"  said  Besser. 

Lady  Rimmon  seemed  not  to  be  quite  sure  of 
him  yet,  because  his  face  had  a  slightly  irritated 
expression. 

"  I'm  not  boring  you  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Not  in  the  least." 

"  Why  do  you  men  read  so  much  ?  You're  just 
like  Violet,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  trying  to  humor 
him.     "  Ah,  here's  your  aunt ! " 

Mrs.  Proudfoot  came  in,  leaning  heavily  on 
her  stick,    and  smiling   as  she    came  up.     Lady 


290  THE   DESTROYER 

Rimmon  was  surprised  at  her  disheveled 
look. 

"  You're  wondering ! "  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot, 
shaking  hands.  "  Did  you  and  Violet  think  I  ran 
off?" 

"  We  did,"  said  Lady  Rimmon,  brightening, 
"  but  you  do  look  ill.  Had  you  a  shock,  or  what  ? 
Edgar  said  nothing." 

"  Well,  I  had;'  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot.  "  How's 
Violet?" 

"  Very  well,"  said  Lady  Rimmon  ;  "  she'll  come 
over  to  see  you,  if  you  won't  come  over  to  see 
us." 

"  Oh,  I'll  go  straight  home,  soon,"  said  Mrs. 
Proudfoot.     "  It's  time,  you  know." 

"  Well,  perhaps  it  is,"  said  Lady  Rimmon. 
"  You'll  be  wishing  to  put  your  house  in  order." 

Besser  was  surprised  at  the  manner  in  which 
his  aunt  piloted  the  conversation.  Had  it  been 
in  his  own  hands  it  might  have  broken  down. 
But  they  spent  half  an  hour  in  pleasant  small 
talk,  and  no  one  would  have  suspected  all  that 
lay  beneath  the  jungle  of  words,  and  that  hun- 
gered to  make  itself  known.  Lady  Rimmon 
rose,  and  asked  Besser  when  he  was  coming  to 


SUSPENSE  291 

see  her.  He  said  soon,  and  she  went  home  to 
Violet  to  give  her  her  impressions. 

"  I  don't  know  what  quite  to  make  of  her," 
she  said.  "  I  don't  know  if  she's  sincere.  Her 
excuse  seemed  perfectly  natural,  and  yet  there's 
something " 

"  Oh,  no,  mother  !  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Vio- 
let. "  Why  should  we  always  be  suspecting  ?  Is 
Edgar  coming  over  soon  ?  " 

"  He  said  he  would,"  replied  her  mother,  "  but 
I'm  almost  sure  she's  putting  him  against  us. 
Really,  Violet,  that  little  brown  earth  box  she 
gave  you  looks  tiresome,  though  it's  pathetic  !  " 

"  Leave  it,  mother,"  said  Violet,  "  it's  not  doing 
any  harm." 

The  forget-me-nots  would  certainly  not  appear 
soon  above  the  earth,  and  Violet  knew  that  when 
she  buried  the  seed  it  was  like  the  symbol  of  her 
dead  love.  The  little  brown  earth  box  remained 
outside  her  window  on  the  sill,  waiting  for  the 
reviving  rains  and  the  sun  of  spring.  And  she 
waited,  too.  He  came,  indeed,  but  he  was  almost 
dumb  with  bewilderment.  He  had  dreamt  the 
previous  night  that  he  had  taken  Violet  away 
without  telling  her  that  Hubert  was  in  his  house. 


292  THE  DESTROYER 

He  woke,  excited  by  these  dream  vanities,  and 
wondered  if  they  might  foreshadow  the  future, 
when  perhaps  Hubert  might  really  go  away  for- 
ever. He  turned  swiftly  round  at  the  thought, 
as  quickly  as  men  turn  at  the  sound  of  money 
when  it  falls.  But  then  he  was  ashamed,  and 
drove  the  thought  out  of  him.  Yet  he  could  not 
resist  the  longing  to  see  her  once  more.  When 
he  came  he  found  the  old  House  of  Rimmon  in 
a  strange  commotion.  Lady  Rimmon  was  weep- 
ing, and  Violet  seemed  full  of  a  suppressed  excite- 
ment. 

"  He's  gone  !  "  said  Lady  Rimmon  to  Besser. 

"  Who  ?  "  he  said. 

"  My  husband.  He  has  left  a  letter  saying  he 
has  gone  away,  and  that  he  learned  to  blush  only 
when  he  became  old.  I  believe  it  is  my  fault, 
I  have  not  spoken  to  him  for  months.  He  says 
he  will  never  come  back,  and  asks  a  long  forgive- 
ness ! ' 

"  Oh,  he  will  come  back,"  said  Besser  cheerily. 

"  Never  !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Rimmon  ;  "  will 
he,  Violet  ?     He  says  he  has  been  wicked." 

"  That  means  that  he  didn't  mean  to  be,"  said 
Besser. 


SUSPENSE  293 

"  He  has  gone  away  because  human  faces 
frighten  him,"  said  Violet,  "  by  their  pity  of  his 
old  age." 

"  We'll  never  find  him,"  sobbed  Lady  Rim- 
mon  ;  "  it  would  be  like  the  hunt  for  Hubert." 

"  Quieten  yourself,"  said  Besser. 

"  I'll  put  her  to  bed,"  said  Violet.     "  Wait." 

"  D'you  know  what  he  says  in  his  letter?  "  said 
Lady  Rimmon,  addressing  Besser  as  she  was 
leaving  the  room,  and  attempting  to  smile,  "  he 
says  you  are  more  worthy  to  take  care  of  us  than 
he  was." 

He  stood  waiting  till  Violet  returned,  and 
when  she  came  she  took  him  to  the  divan,  where 
the  little  yellow  and  green  lamp  swung  above 
them. 

"  Conscience,"  she  said  to  Besser,  "  seems  to 
be  a  rodent !  It  has  been  gnawing  and  gnaw- 
ing through  him  for  years,  and  has  just  got 
out." 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  said  Besser. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  The  most  peculiar 
thing  to  me  about  human  beings  is  the  strange 
feeling  they  put  into  atonement.  We  do  feel  that 
if  a  human   being  has  been  punished  or  caned, 


294  THE  DESTROYER 

he's  somehow  clean  again ;  that  his  mistake 
deserves  to  be  forgotten,  and  that  he  deserves 
to  be  recognized  again.  I  believe  that  it  was  some 
sort  of  feeling  like  this  that  led  me  to  marry  your 
cousin.  I  suppose  I  have  absorbed  too  much  the 
literal  meaning  of  the  New  Testament  to  be 
thought  proper." 

"  Well !  "  said  Besser,  taking  a  long  breath,  "  I 
suppose  you  are  one  of  those  who  forgive  every- 
thing to  the  uttermost,  no  matter  how  you  have 
been  deceived." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  smiling,  wondering  also  why 
she  could  smile  two  hours  after  she  had  heard  of 
her  father's  disappearance,  "  I  never  forgave  you 
for  going  to  Monte  Oliveto.  Do  you  remember 
when  you  drove  past  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  he  said,  remembering  that  he  had 
kissed  his  hand. 

They  paused,  while  they  both  were  filling  up 
the  dream-distances  of  the  future  with  figures  and 
pageants  and  tragedy.  He  knew  as  little  about 
it  now  as  she.  He  only  tried  to  dispel  the  mist 
which  kept  closing  round  him.  He  lingered 
beside  her  as  if  it  might  be  the  last  time.  He 
dare  not  advance  a  step  nearer.     He  let  his  love 


SUSPENSE  295 

purr  within  him  unheard.  But  at  least  she  knew 
his  eyes,  and  they  were  full  of  tears. 

"  Edgar  !  "  she  said,  rising  as  if  to  help  him  if 
he  were  ill. 

"  No,  Violet — no  !  "  he  said,  "  pardon  me. 
Good-night! " 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  YOUNGER  MRS.  PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD  THE 
TRUTH 

Next  morning  Lady  Rimmon  kissed  Violet, 
and  said  they  were  nearer  to  each  other  than 
ever.  She  wondered  if  her  husband  would  have 
felt  as  distressed  if  slie  had  gone  away  as  she 
originally  intended.  Perhaps  he  might  come  back, 
but  his  letter  said  no.  In  any  case  it  was  given 
out  that  he  had  gone  a  voyage,  and  meantime  her 
chief  concern  was  her  daughter's  happiness.  They 
looked  at  each  other,  and  both  seemed  to  have 
had  no  sleep.     Violet  was  haggard  for  want  of  it. 

"  Did  you  sleep  at  all  ?  "  asked  Lady  Rimmon. 

"  No,  I  counted  all  the  hours,"  said  Violet. 

"Were  you  thinking  of  your  father?  I  was; 
I  never  got  a  wink." 

"No,"    said   Violet,    "I    wasn't.     Last    night 

Edgar  was  inexplicable." 

"  What  was  wrong?  " 
296 


THE  YOUNGER   MRS.    PROUDFOOT   IS  TOLD      297 

Violet  remained  silent,  while  her  mother  said 
that  Mrs.  Proudfoot  was  going  soon  to  London, 
then  Edgar  would  be  free.  Spring  was  coming, 
and  the  old  House  of  Rimmon  might  at  last  begin 
to  smile.  Violet  had  been  at  her  window  early 
that  morning,  and  if  her  window  had  been  higher 
she  might  have  seen  Besser  on  the  tower.  He 
had  been  up  all  night  with  Hubert,  changing  the 
watch  with  Prahl,  who  grumbled  at  the  labor. 
Prahl,  indeed,  was  almost  becoming  insolent,  re- 
fusing to  do  his  work,  and  threatening  to  go. 
Besser  feared  that  in  a  few  hours  Violet  might 
have  to  bear  the  shock.  He  could  do  nothing 
to  prevent  it,  and  he  refused  to  bribe  Prahl. 
Mrs.  Proudfoot  agreed  that  it  must  just  be  as  it 
was  to  be,  and  said  that  the  long  strain  should 
come  to  an  end.  Instead  of  going  to  his  bed 
after  Prahl  had  relieved  him,  Besser  climbed  the 
tower  at  dawn.  Spring  seemed  to  be  sending 
news  of  itself  from  afar  off.  He  looked  across 
and  saw  the  old  House  of  Rimmon  lying  dark 
under  its  trees,  with  half  the  roof  moss-grown. 
The  trees  were  dripping  in  the  morning  mist.  All 
Mulvey  lay  quiet  except  for  the  isolated  cries  of 
a   few   peasants   and    field   laborers  driving  the 


298  THE   DESTROYER 

horses  to  the  fields,  and  the  blackbirds  singing  in 
the  branches.  Besser  stood  a  few  minutes  on  the 
tower,  looking  towards  the  hectic  East.  The  sun 
seemed  like  a  huge  red  lens  focusing  the  rays  of 
the  kindled  universe.  But  he  could  sing  no 
"  Orient  ode,"  and  went  down  silent  and  numb. 

A  few  hours  after,  old  Isaac  went  to  Lady  Rim- 
mon  and  gave  up  his  place,  saying  that  Cubitt 
could  take  it. 

"  YeVe  been  a  good  lady  to  me,"  he  said,  "  but 
I  can't  plow  the  same  ground  any  more.  The 
truth  goes  a-wriggling  before  me  on't." 

Lady  Rimmon  asked  where  Mother  Dagon 
was,  and  Isaac  said  she  was  begging  to  be  taken 
back. 

"Let  her  come  back,  and  stay  you  on,  Isaac." 

The  old  man  dried  a  tear  from  his  eye. 

"  No,  ma'am  ;  I  can't  work  here  !  Cubitt's  a  fit 
lad." 

"  Then  we  shall  provide  for  you,  brave  Isaac," 
she  said.  "  It's  quite  true  that  we  may  not  need 
any  more  workers.  Perhaps  this  house  will  be 
sold." 

"  Miss  Violet  will  be  going  to  be  married,"  said 
Isaac.     "  I  wish  ye  all  happiness,  Miss  Violet." 


THE  YOUNGER   MRS.    PROUDFOOT  IS   TOLD      299 

Violet  smiled  vaguely,  and  wished  the  episode 
to  come  to  an  end.  Lady  Rimmon  told  Isaac 
she  would  give  him  a  cottage,  with  a  piece  of  land, 
on  another  part  of  the  estate,  and  he  would  sit 
rent-free  for  life. 

"  But  I  can't  take  her  back,"  said  Isaac.  "  She's 
gone  to  her  brother." 

"  Then  let  her  remain,"  said  Lady  Rimmon  ; 
"  and  Cubitt  can  take  over  the  home  farm  here." 

Isaac  went  away  muttering  the  overflow  of  his 
thanks,  and  when  he  arrived  at  the  home  farm  he 
found  Miriam  packing.  Every  one  seemed  to 
be  on  the  move,  and  he  asked  her  what  she  meant. 

"Oh,  I  don't  belong  to  here,"  she  said,  and  con- 
tinued gathering  her  things. 

"  But  I  offer  ye  a  house,"  said  Isaac,  "  which 
her  ladyship  has  given  me." 

"  Oh,  but   I'm  going  with  Heinrich,"  said  she. 

The  truth  was  that  the  news  of  Sir  Saul's  de- 
parture had  been  carried  by  Miriam  to  Prahl  as 
soon  as  Miriam  knew  it.  It  meant  a  great  deal 
to  Prahl,  because  he  had  intended  to  speculate 
with  the  secret  of  Hubert  Proudfoot's  presence 
in  Mulvey,  by  offering  it  to  the  baronet  for  a 
"  consideration."     But  as  soon  as  he  heard  he  was 


300  THE   DESTROYER 

gone,  he  decided  first  to  try  Besser  by  asking  a 
sum  for  his  secrecy.  If  Besser  complied  he  would 
leave  Mulvey  with  Miriam  at  once,  and  he  told 
her  to  prepare  herself.  If  Besser  refused,  then 
Prahl  would  run  to  Lady  Rimmon  and  Violet,  and 
surprise  them  with  the  news.  Although  Besser 
suspected  him,  he  did  not  suppose  the  scheme  was 
thus  laid.  He  generally  expected,  with  fatal  con- 
sequences to  himself,  that  human  beings  would 
act  on  motives  as  good  as  his  own.  Yet  he  was 
not  surprised  when  Prahl  came  to  him  in  the 
forenoon,  with  a  certain  menacing  look. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I'm  afraid  I  can't  wait  longer." 

"  Well,  you  can  go,"  said  Besser. 

"  But "  replied  Prahl. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  mean  that  before  you  leave  all 
Mulvey  will  know  the  truth." 

Prahl  hesitated,  slightly  ashamed.  Besser  hesi- 
tated, too,  before  he  gave  the  finishing  stroke. 
He  appealed  to  the  man's  sense  of  honor,  if  not 
to  his  pity  for  the  broken  old  lady,  whom  a  fresh 
stroke  might  injure  irreparably.  Prahl  thought 
that  Besser's  speech  was  a  disguised  statement 
of  his  personal  interests.  He  said  the  servants 
were  getting  unruly,  which  was  true,  and  that 


THE  YOUNGER   MRS.    PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD      30! 

the  "  thing  "  would  be  out  in  any  case  very  soon. 
The  truth  is,  he  wished  to  be  the  first  in  the 
field.  He  hinted  that  the  situation  might  still 
continue,  but  when  Besser  looked  a:t  him  con- 
temptuously he  threw  up  his  place  and  de- 
manded his  wages.  He  got  them,  but  not  with- 
out the  knowledge  ot  the  other  servants,  and  he 
had  a  race  to  Rimmon  House  with  the  gardener 
Phil,  who  had  long  been  wishing  to  deliver  him- 
self of  the  news.  They  were  followed  by  three 
other  servants,  whom  Ruth  was  unable  to  restrain, 
and  she  came  to  Besser,  with  her  hands  uplifted, 
saying  they  had  all  run.  The  marvel  was,  she 
said,  that  they  had  kept  it  till  now.  Prahl  out- 
stripped them  all,  and  was  first  at  the  door. 
When  Lady  Rimmon  saw  them  running  up 
the  avenue  she  called  Violet  to  the  window, 
and  they  both  wondered  what  it  meant.  By 
this  time  Prahl  had  entered  the  house,  and 
walked  into  the  presence  of  Violet  and  her 
mother.  The  others  drew  back  and  waited  out- 
side. 

"  Madam/'  said  Prahl,  "  I  have  something  im- 
portant to  tell  you." 

"  Oh,   what    is    it  ? "    asked    Lady    Rimmon, 


302  THE   DESTROYER 

trembling  at  his  abrupt  manner,  and  clinging  to 
Violet.     "  Is  my  husband ?" 

"  No,"  said  Prahl,  "  it's  not  about  him ;  it's 
more  important." 

"Then  say  what  it  is !  "  exclaimed  Violet,  turn- 
ing pale. 

"  Will  you  repay  me  for  my  trouble,  madam  ?  " 
asked  Prahl  without  a  blush.  "  I've  been  occu- 
pied about  you  longer  than  you  know." 

"  Yes,  yes,  anything !  "  ejaculated  Lady  Rim- 
mon,  handing  him  her  purse. 

Prahl  took  it,  and  before  he  had  finished  his 
explanatory  sentence  Violet  had  almost  fainted. 
But  she  caught  hold  of  her  mother,  and  as  she 
struggled  back  to  consciousness  she  heard  Prahl 
say  that  Besser  had  been  keeping  Hubert  for 
months.  The  douple,  triple,  multiple  meaning  of 
it  all  seemed  to  overpower  her.  Lady  Rimmon 
stood  as  if  stunned,  and  asked  the  man  feebly  if 
he  knew  what  he  was  saying. 

"  Yes,"  said  Violet,  in  a  low  choking  voice,  "  it's 
too  obvious.     Now  I  understand !  " 

Prahl,  as  if  there  was  nothing  more  to  do,  took 
his  leave,  went  to  the  home  farm  where  Miriam 
was  waiting,  and  left  Mulvey  with  her  forever, 


THE  YOUNGER   MRS.   PROUDFOOT  IS  TOLD       303 

In  a  few  minutes  Lady  Rimmon,  to  whom  illu- 
sion remained  a  necessity  all  her  life,  began  to 
question  the  man's  honesty,  and  asked  Violet  if 
they  would  not  go  over  to  discover  the  truth. 
How  could  it  be  true? 

Violet,  receiving  for  the  moment  a  fictitious 
strength  out  of  the  feeling  of  indignation  and 
shame  that  overtook  her,  said  she  would  go.  Un- 
able to  discover  motives  or  causes,  and  full  of  her 
own  personal  humiliation,  she  covered  Besser's 
name  with  bitter  opprobrium.  She  ran  over  to 
Mulvey  House,  followed  by  her  mother,  and,  per- 
haps on  the  way,  she  may  have  fondly  counted 
herself  the  dupe  of  the  foreign  scoundrel.  She 
had  heard  Besser  complain  of  him.  She  stopped 
on  the  road,  weeping,  and  hoping  ultimate  hopes. 
Everything  about  her  seemed  a  phantasmagoria. 
"  One  is  interested,"  says  Burke,  "  that  beings 
made  for  suffering  should  suffer  well."  She  had 
endured  all  the  strange  and  sudden  alternations 
of  human  psychology,  but  the  end  was  not  yet. 
She  had  known  all  the  mocks  of  life,  and  yet  she 
believed  in  its  essential  goodness.  Once  she  had 
thought  it  was  so  short  that  it  seemed  hardly  worth 
taking  advice  about.     But  she  had  not  yet  dis- 


304  THE   DESTROYER 

covered,  amid  a  hundred  renunciations,  that  we 
have  no  fixed  goal  except  death.  She  seemed 
never  to  have  found  love,  only  pity,  and  a  worm 
gets  that.  Her  joy  had  been  like  the  sleep  of  the 
poor,  which  comes  by  fits  and  starts  and  is  cold. 
Love  and  sorrow  had  mingled,  but  not  long,  for 
sorrow  had  leavened  love  till  the  whole  was 
leavened.     And  the  unsummed  future ! 

Her  mother  came  up  to  her  where  she  was 
caught  as  in  a  horror  of  dream. 

"  Violet  I "  exclaimed  Lady  Rimmon,  "  it's 
utterly  ludicrous — it  can't  be !  What  are  we 
thinking  of?  He's  a  villain,  and  he's  got  my 
purse  for  nothing  !  " 

"  Let  us  go  on,"  cried  Violet,  "  and  find  out 
the  truth,  and  bring  this  awful  cruelty  to  an  end. 
That's  why  my  mother-in-law  hasn't  come  back !  " 

They  struggled  up  to  Mulvey  House.  Besser 
was  waiting  them,  pale,  and  with  his  lips  trem- 
bling.    In  a  moment  Violet  knew  the  truth. 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  how  could  you  have  done  it  ?  "  she 
cried ;  "  it's  a  crime !     You  said  he  was  dead  ! " 

'*  Yes,  he  is  dead  !  " 

Besser  shook  his  head,  while  Mrs.  Proudfoot 
came  out  to  meet  them  in  the  hall. 


THE  YOUNGER   MRS.   PROUDKOOT   IS   TOLD       305 

"  Is  he  really  so  wicked  ?  "  said  Lady  Rimmon 
to  Mrs.  Proudfoot,  amid  their  confusion. 

"  He's  not  wicked  at  all,"  said  Mrs.  Proudfoot 
quietly.     "  Calm  yourselves.     Violet ! " 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  cried  Violet,  covering  Besser 
with  abuse  which  he  forgot  and  forgave. 

"  You  are  ill !  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  am  ill ! "  she  cried,  "  I  am  ill  with 
humiliation." 

"  No,  Violet,"  he  said  firmly,  "  you  will  under- 
stand some  day." 

Her  mother  implored  her  not  to  go  up,  but 

although  she  was  afraid,  she  compelled  Besser  to 

take  her,  while  the  others  followed.     He  saw  the 

physiognomy    of   her   panic   as   he   led    her   in. 

Hubert's  eyes  were  open,  full  of  a  sort  of  theatric 

light.     He  threw  out  his  arms  feebly,  as  if  he 

recognized  her,  although  she  hardly  recognized 

him.     And  certainly  it  was  pity  more  than  love 

that  made  her  come  near  him,  as  he  struggled  to 

express  with  his  hands  the  muffled  feeling  of  his 

destruction. 
20 


CHAPTER  VI 

LIGHT   O'   THE   SUN 

Hubert,  then,  died  late.     Violet  took  him  to 

the  dim  House  of  Rimmon  and  nursed  him  to 

the  end.     And  if  she  was  to  know  only  pity,  and 

not   love,    she    would    still    remain    incomplete. 

Besser,  indeed,  had  loved  her,  but  in  the  end  it 

had  meant  for  her  a  great  humiliation.     There 

was  no  wonder  if  the  blinding  shock  of  the  truth 

brought  bitter  words   to  her  lips.     Because  she 

had  been  at  stake  all  the  time  without  knowing  it, 

the  sword  of  suspicion  was  for  a  moment  drawn. 

She  had  been  played  with  too  savagely.     Yet  she 

saw  dimly  through  her  tears  what  he  must  have 

suffered.     She  began  to   know   that   it  was  just 

because  he  had  so  wonderfully    suppressed   his 

love,  and  been  ashamed  of  it,  that  he  had  been  so 

seductive.     She  guessed  the  strength  of  will  by 

which  he  had  overcome  the  fascination  of  error, 

and  how  sure-footed  had  been  his  wisdom.     Long 
306 


/ 

LIGHT  O'   THE  SUN  307 

afterwards  they  met  each  other  again  in  their 
dreams,  and  each  seemed  to  be  covered  with  the 
scarred  imagery  of  passion.  Years  were  to  pass 
during  which  they  possessed  each  other  in  their 
dreams,  and  only  in  their  dreams ;  but  even  then 
they  appeared  to  approach  each  other  as  haunted 
beings ;  and  often,  when  he  seemed  to  come 
towards  her  with  the  sort  of  light  on  his  face  with 
which  men  go  to  their  success,  she  fled  from  him 
as  alien  to  her  by  all  the  world's  laws.  She  said 
she  knew  he  was  wiser  and  purer  than  she ;  but 
her  love  for  him  and  his  love  for  her  had  made 
the  past  monstrous,  and  had  been  a  ruinous  pos- 
session, compared  to  which  martyrs'  sufferings 
might  appear  gay.  She  knew,  however,  in  the 
cruelty  of  delay,  that  it  was  impossible  to  sur- 
render the  love  round  which  her  life  had  revolved, 
and  to  pronounce  it  futile.  Her  beauty  was  per- 
haps sapped  and  marred.  Human  beauty  is  per- 
fect not  in  its  division  but  in  its  unity  of  two,  and 
the  individual  never  knows  it  till  his  own  is 
mingled  with  another's.  It  looked  as  if  it  was 
getting  too  late  for  that  conjunction,  and  the 
beauty  of  each  was  dying  apart  and  hungering. 
"  Not  the  least  of  the  little  tragedies,"  she  wrote, 


308  THE   DESTROYER 

"  that  play  themselves  out  among  human  beings 
is  this  mysterious  passing  of  beauty  !  " 

He  heard  a  rumor  that  she  had  embraced 
Catholicism,  and  he  smiled  to  think  that  she  had 
ended  where  he  had  begun.  Since  she  was,  mean- 
time, lost  and  dead  to  him,  he  used  to  repeat,  as 
appropriate,  one  of  the  songs  he  had  heard  a 
boatman  sing  on  the  Lake  of  Garda : — 

"  Vago  ^ercando  la  porta  e  la  mura, 
Vago  fercando  la  mia  inamorata  ; 
La  morte  me  risponde  orrenda-scura  : 
No  la  9ercar  che  la  xe  sotterrata." 

But  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  believe  that 
he  had  lost  forever  all  the  charity  of  her  lips. 
And  he  hardly  wondered  that  she  required  some 
heat  of  worship  into  which  she  could  put  all  her 
ardence. 

He  went  back  to  Mulvey  after  she  and  her 
mother  had  withdrawn  to  Hildesheim.  "  We 
shall  go  away,"  Lady  Rimmon  had  said,  "  out  of 
this  dark  house  !  "  Besser  meant  to  sell  Mulvey 
House.  He  climbed  his  tower  at  dawn  again, 
and  looked  towards  the  trembling  thresholds  of 
the  East.  He  looked  across  to  the  old  house  of 
Rimmon,  sitting,  moss-grown,  silent  in  the  earth's 


LIGHT   O'    THE   SUN  309 

decay,  and  guarded  only  by  Cubitt.  The  at- 
mosphere was  dim  round  about  it.  Besser 
thought  it  was  the  last  time  he  would  see  it,  but 
something  kept  him  from  selling  his  own  place, 
and  he  came  away.  He  had  wealth  in  plenty,  but 
if  his  love  was  killed  how  could  he  be  complete  ? 
He  might  spend  his  life,  as  he  did  during  the 
next  four  years,  in  writing  books  into  which  his 
own  spiritual  distortion  entered  as  an  unsolved 
riddle,  or  in  working  hard  among  the  miners 
again,  casting  on  them  not  the  light  of  a  creed 
but  of  his  own  glow.  Yet  it  would  not  be  enough. 
He  had  no  hand  of  another  to  touch.  Wisdom, 
knowledge,  charity,  still  left  him  void.  Doubtless 
he  had  taken  the  road  of  all  the  saints  (he  had 
never  forgotten  Borgo  Ogni  S.  Santi,  as  it  is 
written  up  on  the  street  in  Florence)  and  had 
found  it  hard.  But  the  tease  and  worry  of  sin 
had  made  him  ill,  and  a  saint  is  not  typical  of 
this  world  but  of  its  antithesis.  He  still  longed 
for  beauty,  though  it  might  be  too  late.  If  he 
was  never  to  find  it  in  some  form,  he  might  as 
well  give  his  body  to  be  burned.  He  had  strug- 
gled well  against  his  few  odds  and  ends  of  "  sin," 
but  the  ruinous  spiritual  conflict  had  devastated 


3IO  THE  DESTROYER 

his  face,  and  left  marks  upon  it  that  might  have 
been  taken  for  the  marks  of  vice.  And  he  began 
to  understand  the  depth  of  meaning  of  Tinto- 
retto's conception  of  tlie  physiognomy  of  Christ. 
"  Genius,"  said  Balzac,  "  sends  a  man  to  the  hos- 
pital." And  so  may  great  spiritual  passion.  His 
esthetic  fear  of  ugliness  had  delivered  him,  doubt- 
less, from  all  moral  squalor,  but  he  began  to 
wonder  whether,  what  used  to  be  known  as 
"  saintliness,"  did  not,  by  its  perpetual  crucifixion 
of  the  body,  degrade  and  vilify  it.  One  thing  he 
knew  that  Thomas  Aquinas  was  wrong  when  he 
said  that  in  beauty  desire  is  quiet !  Yet  it  was 
his  pride  that  had  taken  him  safe  through  the 
intolerable  vulgar  tragedy.  And  if  you  had  asked 
him  why,  having  broken  away  from  old  faiths,  he 
kept  their  precepts,  though  not  their  forms,  he 
might  have  said  it  was  for  auld  lang  syne,  since 
he  never  quite  delivered  himself  from  sentimen- 
talism.  He  still  spoke  their  emotions,  and  heard, 
as  it  were,  the  sound  of  praise  in  the  Invisible. 
And  as  he  looked  on  the  vanishing  things  of  the 
world,  and  the  vanished  things  of  his  own  life, 
he  seemed  to  be  conscious  of  a  sort  of  bruit  of 
victory  and  inward  hurrah. 


LIGHT  O    THE   SUN  31I 

But  they  could  not  thus  live  possessing  each 
other  at  a  distance.  The  Unknown  and  the  Un- 
possessed had  been  torturing  them  long,  and  they 
had  been  offered  up  as  a  twin  sacrifice.  Yet 
Violet's  conception  of  the  consistency  and  sym- 
metry of  her  fate  was,  happily,  to  be  contradicted. 
They  were  driven  to  each  other  for  a  refuge. 
Edgar  still  seemed  to  shout  to  her  across  the 
shores  of  dream.  She  caught  those  dream-echoes. 
The  very  polarity  of  their  sorrow  brought  them 
at  last  to  a  goal.  Beauty  might  be  forsaking 
them,  but  they  were  not  to  disappear  in  a  sort  of 
slow  catastrophe  of  withering.  The  days  were 
passing  at  the  end  of  which  they  were  to  meet 
on  the  outer  edges  of  the  long  conflict  they  had 
left  behind.  Love  was  counting  it  in  his  deep 
Book  of  Hours,  and  Edgar  measured  the  months 
by  passing  a  bead  of  his  old  rosary.  Each  seemed 
to  have  an  inward  audition  of  its  coming.  So 
that  it  was  only  with  a  kind  of  awe  and  divina- 
tion realized  and  perfected  that  they  met,  after 
four  years,  in  the  twilight  of  Milan  Cathedral. 
It  was  a  divine  afternoon  in  May,  when  the  world 
seemed  like  a  sun-dream.  Through  the  great 
central  door  the  sun  was  streaming  in  a  broad 


312  THE   DESTROYER 

shaft  on  the  pavement,  bewildering  the  darkness 
of  the  aisles.  And  the  air  above  was  like  subtle 
dust  of  gold.  It  was  like  a  gdtterddmmerung, 
Violet  and  her  mother  were  sitting  in  the  left 
wing  where  the  sun  came  through  the  rich  glass, 
like  a  soft  incendiary,  setting  the  pillars  and  arches 
on  fire,  and  gathering  the  darkness  out  of  the 
roofs.  Edgar  was  walking  towards  them,  uncon- 
scious of  the  double  holiness  of  the  place.  He 
would  know  in  a  moment  that  it  was  big  with  re- 
demption. And  Edgar  knew,  surely  he,  that  the 
ground  of  reconciliation  is  holy. 

"  Ah  !  "  whispered  Lady  Rimmon,  who  by  that 
time  had  become  widowed,  in  soft  exclamation  of 
her  awe,  "  look,  Violet !  " 

Nay,  she  could  hardly  look,  for  it  seemed  like 
the  joyous  intrigue  and  compassion  of  the  Invis- 
ible to  bring  them  together  at  last  before  the 
altars  of  their  sacrifice  and  their  victory.  But  a 
smile,  as  fine  as  a  smile  in  sleep,  passed  over  her 
face.  Their  souls  had  fled  like  fugitives  up  and 
down  between  the  gates  of  birth  and  death,  in 
terror  of  both  gates,  and  were  to  be  caught 
here  in  the  midst.  Edgar  came  forward  as  if  im- 
pelled by  that  thaumaturgy.     They  seemed   to 


LIGHT  O'   THE  SUN  313 

have,  in  a  moment,  a  vision  into  the  depth  and 
solemnities  of  each  other's  lives.  They  divined, 
without  use  of  words,  this  easing  of  their  destinies. 
They  had  been  sitting  long  in  the  cold  places  of 
duty,  but  this  soft  glow  came  like  the  warmth  of 
fruit  that  ripens  in  the  sun.  Love,  troubled  and 
forsaken,  had  long  been  laying  his  foundations  in 
darkness,  and  these  were  to  be  his  late  upbuild- 
ings.  What  could  words  do  ?  Tears  could  not  do 
enough  for  that  silent  chorus  of  their  lives. 

"  O  Edgar !  "  whispered  Lady  Rimmon,  "  at 
last  I  have  not  lived  in  vain ! " 

And  though  it  was  late,  there  was  yet  time  to 
gather  up  Love's  precious  harvest  dust. 

THE  END. 


MiHiiiiiilliiilliiilliillliii  Hill  lijli  lull  ji|[„„„  11,1 
A     000  605  541     2 


